


if (hear: “Execute Order sixty-six”)

by lunaemoth



Series: Change Order 66 [2]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Order 66, Fix-It, Fluff, Gen, Happy Ending, Humor, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:35:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 36,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23326366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaemoth/pseuds/lunaemoth
Summary: To remove or destroy all the biochips is complicated. To edit Order 66, though? Well, it's just a few lines of code. A few different words can change history.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-5052 | Bly & Aayla Secura, Plo Koon & CC-3636 | Wolffe
Series: Change Order 66 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1731298
Comments: 434
Kudos: 2669
Collections: Best Of: Star Wars, Best of StarWars, Commander Fox, Commander Wolffe Stuff, Randomness, SW Especially Satisfying Stories, Suggested Good Reads





	1. Biochip edit

**Author's Note:**

> NB: I'm French and this hasn't been edited by a beta. If there is an issue, feel free to comment with a correction.
> 
> Also, it has been years since I've done coding of this type so it might not be perfect, but what matters to me is that it's understandable.

if (hear: “Execute Order sixty-six”)

> { chip = on;
> 
> criticalthinking = military;
> 
> obedience = maximal;
> 
> Chancellor = “My Lord”;
> 
> Jedi = Traitor;
> 
> Traitor = execution;
> 
> execution = priority1;
> 
> }

EDIT?

> YES

if (hear: “Execute Order sixty-six”)

> { chip = on;
> 
> criticalthinking = military;
> 
> obedience = normal;
> 
> Chancellor = Traitor;
> 
> Jedi = Asset;
> 
> Traitor = execution;
> 
> Asset = protection;
> 
> protection = priority1;
> 
> }

CONFIRM EDIT?

> YES

EDIT BIOCHIP MANUAL?

> NO

UPDATE ALL BIOCHIP?

> YES

NEW BIOCHIP UPDATE TRANSMITTING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, many fanfic writers look for a way to change Order 66, right? I don't know if mine is original, at least I have never read one like it (if you did, please send me a link, I'd be interested), but I realized that it would be so much easier (and safer) to change the code of the biochips instead of removing/damaging them all.
> 
> Unfortunately, my brain's still a little fuzzy on how that change happened (who did it? Jango? an OC? someone who time-traveled? XD that's a mystery!), but it's definitely jumping into the much more interesting band-wagon of: save the Jedi and let the clones be overprotective cuties, yay!  
> So, yep, that will be the next chapters: how the Jedi were wrapped in cotton wool and told to sleep while their troopers deal with the rest. :D The chapters will be small and cover a lot of clones and Jedi.


	2. Commander Fox, the Traitor and the 501st General

The Coruscant Guard was warned of a disruption in the Chancellor’s Office. Commander Fox led a squad up while calling the men on duty to know what was going on.

“We were told to leave, Sir,” a trooper replied.

“What do you mean, leave? By who?”

“I… Uh… The Chancellor?”

“Are you asking me or telling me, trooper?!”

“Uh. Telling you, Sir.”

Fox reached them where they were waiting at the end of the hallway and tilted his head in silent reprimand. “And you didn’t think that battle sounds meant you had to check what was going on?”

“We were told to stay away, Sir.” 

Fox growled and sped up toward the door. “We’ll talk about this later. Men, get ready!”

He opened the door and froze at the sight that greeted them. The window had been blasted and the office was a mess, but only General Skywalker was present, kneeling in front of… was that the Chancellor? It looked like his outfit, with an unusual cloak, but his face was pale and… wrong.

“Ah, Commander,” the Chancellor called. It was the right voice at least.

“Chancellor. We were called—”

“Yes, you’re right on time." Palpatine walked to the holoprojector and activated it to reach every Clone Commander, ordering: "Execute Order sixty-six.”

Fox blinked. “Yes, Sir.”

The holoprojector turned off, and Palpatine smiled in satisfaction.

General Skywalker was starting to rise, and he turned when he heard every soldier of the squad raise their weapons, but there was no warning in the Force for him or Palpatine before the whole squadron fired at the Chancellor. Exhausted by the previous fight against the Jedi Council, neither of them had the time and energy to react. Thus, Palpatine fell back with a cry, and Anakin shouted in denial. The Coruscant Guards didn’t stop until Palpatine had stopped moving.

Anakin lit his lightsaber and charged at the guards, who scattered.

“He’s a Jedi, right?” one of them asked, hesitantly.

“Right,” another replied.

“Some Jedi need to be protected from themselves,” Fox pointed out. “Hold him down!”

“Yes, Sir!”

Thus, Anakin was jumped upon by a full squadron who tripped him, disarmed him and choked him until he fell unconscious. 

Fox stood up from where he had been Force-pushed against a wall and rubbed his back. “Right… Sit on him. I’m calling the 501st. Their General, their problem. Someone check the Traitor to make sure he’s 100% dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suppose that the troopers who would have guarded the Chancellor's office would have been mind-tricked by the Jedi into leaving, thus their confusion here.


	3. Commander Cody and his General

" _Execute Order sixty-six._ "

" _Yes,_ Sir _.”_

Cody blinked, looked toward where his General had disappeared, and then mentally swore. The call couldn’t have come two minutes before and make his life easier, of course not. He turned on his radio and said on the battalion's channel: “Troopers, execute order sixty-six. Ghost Company, follow the General and apply protection and emergency evacuation protocol. 212th, let’s finish this, now!” 

Ten minutes later, Obi-Wan was igniting his lightsaber when the droids he was facing went down under heavy fire. He turned around to find himself surrounded by Ghost Company. He frowned at them. “What is it?”

“General,” Boil replied. “Protection protocol is in effect. You’re to be brought back to the Negotiator immediately.”

“I beg your pardon?” Obi-Wan realized he was corralled toward a landing transport ship and found this quite insulting. He was no misbehaving padawan to be taken out of the fight! “Did Cody order this?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Obi-Wan reached for his comlink. “Commander Cody, come in.”

“General.”

“Cody, what is the meaning of this? Why is Boil literally pushing me toward a LAAT?” Obi-Wan asked, more flummoxed than insulted now, at his men’s behavior. The hand on the small of his back was quite insistent, and his men didn’t usually touch him unless there was an emergency, or then just in passing.

“Sir, please cooperate. We can finish here without you.”

“But why? What’s going on?”

“Sir. You’re to be protected from traitors.”

“Traitors? Who?”

“They’ll be dealt with, Sir. You can count on us.” 

Obi-Wan softened as he felt Ghost Company’s protectiveness and determination in the Force. “I know I can, Cody. Very well, I trust you to finish this, but I’ll expect a thorough explanation later, Commander.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Now that Grievous was dead, Obi-Wan knew his men could manage the rest of the battle. The plan was proceeding smoothly. Cody wouldn’t have any trouble. Still, this would go much quicker, if he could just... A distant explosion behind his back made him turn around. He watched from his higher viewpoint as troopers rushed at the last defenses of the Separatists. Ok, so, his men had the situation under control. There was no point in dragging his feet. After his fight against Grievous, he wouldn't say no to a good cup of tea and a break, after all.

Once in the LAAT, Obi-Wan reached for a handle, but Boil pushed him further inside, against a wall and the secured seats only used by the civilians they sometimes transported.

“I have never used this in the whole war, Boil!” he protested.

“Then it’s time to start, Sir.”

“That’s completely unnecessary. I have complete faith in our pilot.”

Because his battalion could, in fact, get weirder, the said pilot shouted over his shoulder: “I can’t go until you put on your seatbelt, Sir. It’s protocol!”

“You never cared about protocols a day in your life, Eagle!”

Eagle laughed but insisted: “True, but I care about the chores I’ll get if the Commander hears about it. Do you want me to get chores, Sir?”

Obi-Wan huffed but let Boil fasten the security harness around his chest. “I’d hate to be responsible for your misery, but I want it noted that this is completely unnecessary.”

“Noted,” Wooley commented as he caught a handle and stood at Obi-Wan’s right side, with Boil on the left. The other men closed the door behind them.

Obi-Wan looked up and threw him an unimpressed look. “Are you sassing me, Wooley?”

“I wouldn’t, Sir.”

“I feel like this is a collective joke you’re playing on me.” 

“If it was, Sir, the Commander wouldn’t be getting jittery,” Boil replied before taking a call. “Commander, we’re taking off, the General is secure.”

“Good. Keep it that way, Captain.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Obi-Wan crossed his legs and arms. He tilted his head back against the wall and considered the situation. There truly was something wrong at work here, but he trusted his men (and the Force, which was blissfully calm). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aayla and Bly are next.


	4. Aayla Secura and her Commander

Aayla was distracted. A few minutes ago, she had felt the echo of Kit Fisto’s death in the Force. He was a dear friend of hers, and his passing was upsetting. She thought he had been back on Coruscant, where she had expected him to be safe.

The timing was unfortunate. They were just landing on Felucia, and she couldn’t afford the long time she would need to meditate and grieve properly. All she could do was to release her grief in the Force, but it wasn’t enough. 

She rubbed her chest distractingly. She had to keep going.

“The ground seems stable,” she threw over her shoulder. 

She had to focus. Her men were counting on her. She had to make sure the heavy artillery could continue. These lands were treacherous.

“Commander, do you think—” She was startled by a bird taking flight just over her head, its loud song right in her ear. Force, she needed to focus. She straightened and tried to appear unperturbed. Her men needed her to be calm. 

Too late, she realized as her squad spread out around her in a protective formation. She turned around to face Bly.

“I’m fine, Commander.”

“With all due respect, General, facts say otherwise. You stumbled upon leaving the LAAT. You’re distracted by bugs, and now you were startled by a bird.”

Aayla huffed. He didn’t need to list her failings so rudely!

“A LAAT has been called. ETA two minutes before evacuation.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “I beg your pardon?! It’s completely unnecessary, Bly. Allow me a few minutes of meditation at most, and then—”

“Negative, Sir. Your protection can’t be ensured in hostile territory.”

“Bly, we have a mission to accomplish. We don’t have the time for this.”

“We’ll take the time, Sir. This mission isn't time-sensitive. Your protection's priority number one.”

Aayla sighed, and her lekku twitched in her agitation. Bly was overreacting, but she couldn’t blame him since she hadn’t explained the situation. It was on her. “Commander, I promise I’m fine. I just felt an echo in the Force that upset me, that’s all. I just need some time to… compose myself.”

“An echo, Sir?”

She looked down, and a lekku wrapped around her shoulders. “Kit Fisto is dead. I felt it as we landed…” 

“I see… My condolences, General.”

Aayla gave him a small, tired smile. “Thank you. Now, give me just a few minutes—”

“Negative, Sir. ETA forty seconds.”

Now a bit annoyed, Aayla put her hands on her hips and frowned at him. “Commander, enough. I told you, I’m fine.”

“Protocols state that a grieving individual should be given appropriate time off the battlefield before any mission.”

“Commander, we’re _in the middle_ of a mission.”

“Exactly.” Bly nodded in approval as if she had just agreed with him instead of the opposite. “Thus, the mission is aborted.”

Aayla opened her mouth, ready to protest, but the LAAT was reaching them and its noise covered anything she could say. So, instead, she pointed at herself and then at the LAAT, and shook a finger in refusal. The commander stared at her impassively before nodding. Thinking he had finally seen sense, she went to leave and find a place to sit down for meditation, but Bly took a step toward her, reached for her, and suddenly she was lifted over his shoulders like a wounded soldier… or an uncooperative padawan.

“COMMANDER!” she screeched in shock.

He patted the back of her legs, as if she needed comfort, and then walked toward the LAAT with the squad tightening around them. None of them seemed to see any problem with the situation! 

“Commander, let me down. It’s an order,” she shouted against his helmet.

He ignored her. This was surreal. Her men seemed to have taken a hit on the head… all at the same time. 

She refused to force her will on her own men, which only left the option to struggle against Bly’s grip. Unfortunately, as she was reminded, all troopers were strong, had excellent control of their body, and Bly seemed to be extremely determined and stubborn on this matter. This was ridiculous. 

She wouldn’t use the Force against him. Which meant she had to surrender. She couldn't even elbow him with her pointy bones: his armor protected him from any retaliation.

"I would have you know, Commander, that this position is extremely uncomfortable with your armor," she grumbled.

"Sorry, Sir. I'll make sure to remove it before carrying you again in the ship."

She huffed. "First, I knew you could hear me perfectly well. Second, if you dare to do this in my own flagship, Commander, I'll force-push you into a wall so hard your ears will ring like the bells of the Wind Garden!"

She could hear several troopers laughing, but they all outwardly stayed impassive so she couldn't identify which one of them did. Bly patted her thigh.

"Noted, Sir."

She thought they would calm down once she was inside the LAAT, but she was pushed in a seat _for civilians,_ and Bly fastened the seat belt around her as if she was a child. She glared at him as the doors were closed and the LAAT took off.

“Commander, this is ridiculous. We’ll have _words_.”

Holding onto a net above her, Bly removed his helmet, watched her silently, and then bent down to rest his forehead against hers. She closed her eyes in surprise. It wasn’t the first time they had done it. It was a popular touch between the troopers, and she had done it early in the war to comfort Bly when he had lost too many brothers after a hard battle. It had happened again several times since. It was one of the only touches they allowed themselves, despite their tenderness for each other. They had never done it in public before, though.

“Let me take care of you, please, General,” Bly whispered. “I won’t let what happened to General Fisto happen to you.”

She felt his worry in the Force, and she realized belatedly that she had made it worse when she had told Bly why she was upset. She couldn’t understand it. Death, even the death of Jedi, happened far too often in this war. Kit’s death was personal for her, but what was one more for Bly?

“Protecting the Jedi is our first priority,” he said, as if in reply. 

There was something off, but she didn’t understand what.

She sighed and stopped fighting him. 

Force, she needed a _long_ meditation. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always thought that in the scene of Order 66, Aayla seems... twitchy and high-strung. So this is my explanation since she's supposed to have a close relationship with Kit Fisto (sorry I couldn't save you, buddy, but you have been avenged).
> 
> Next: Plo Koon and Wolffe.


	5. Plo Koon and his Commander

Plo jumped down his starfighter, took the time to adjust his robes around him, and then walked to his second in command.

Commander Wolffe was waiting for him a few steps away, standing to attention, knowing what was coming.

Plo stopped in front of him, stared and waited. In the opinion of many of his troopers, it was both a boon and a curse that you couldn’t see the General’s eyes. He was intimidating enough without, and yet it left no way to guess what he thought.

Still, Wolffe managed to hold his ground and stayed quiet.

Plo tilted his head, curious, but chose to wait. Another starfighter landed near. When its pilot came down, Plo called for him: “Captain Jag. Join us, if you please.”

Jag walked to them with his helmet under his arm. “General?”

“I’d like an explanation from the both of you on why you blatantly lied to me a few minutes ago.”

“Sir?”

“You asked me to withdraw, stating that you received strange readings from my starfighter. If that were the case, there would be mechanics right here and now to repair it. If that were the case, you’d have been able to tell me exactly what was wrong from the beginning, so I could have troubleshot it. If that were the case, you wouldn’t be standing in front of me like naughty younglings. Gentlemen… your explanation.”

“General, it’s on me. Captain Jag followed my orders,” Wolffe stepped in.

Plo tilted his head to stare at his Commander before nodding. “Dismissed, Captain.”

Jag saluted and left, relieved.

“With me, Commander,” Plo demanded before walking toward the exit of the hangar.

Wolffe followed without a word until they both reached Plo’s office. Once inside, Plo leaned back on his desk, crossed his arms and waited.

Standing at attention, Wolffe explained: “Sir. Your protection is our first priority. For your protection, you needed to be back on the ship, and I knew you wouldn’t have aborted the patrol without a good reason… so I lied. I’m sorry, Sir, but I’m not sorry.”

“The war is our priority.”

“Negative, Sir.”

Plo's fingers tapped his arm. “Did something happen while I was away, Commander? Did you receive new orders or information?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“What was it?”

“Order sixty-six, Sir.”

“I don’t seem to recall that one. If you could enlighten me…”

“It is as I said, Sir: protecting the Jedi becomes priority number one.”

“An interesting order… which I truly don’t recall. Who gave you that order?”

“The Chancellor, Sir.”

“Really?” Plo straightened. “I shall contact him then, something must be amiss for such a measure.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible, Sir.”

“Why not?”

“Because the Chancellor’s a Traitor, Sir.”

There was a moment of silence. Plo absorbed the news and waited a few seconds for Wolffe to amend his words, in case there was a miscommunication, but the Commander didn’t seem to think there was anything to add.

“Commander… Are you telling me in the same breath that the Chancellor’s a traitor and that you followed an order of the Chancellor?”

“... Yes, Sir,” Wolffe confirmed, although a bit slower.

“And how do you know he’s a Traitor?”

“I… just do, Sir.”

“You worry me, Commander,” Plo sighed. He stepped forward, took Wolffe by the shoulders, and then spun him around. “A visit to the infirmary might be in order.”

“I’m glad you’re following after-mission protocol, Sir.”

“I was talking about you, Wolffe.” Plo slowly shook his head, thinking that a call to Coruscant would be next on his to-do list. What was this nonsense? 


	6. Shaak Ti and the High Council

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that we explored the most important reactions, the format of the story will change for longer chapters (and thus slower to come) with more interactions between characters.  
> It will allow me to mention minor characters and keep the plot progressing.

Commander Stone walked to the corpse with deep reluctance. The square under the Senate Rotunda had been emptied by the Coruscant Guard. That was at least something they could do: spare the Jedi the indignity of their corpses being gawked at.

The robes were typical, and the color of the skin told Stone everything he needed to know. Still, he kneeled and turned the body slowly. 

General Windu had probably died upon impact. His skull… well, there wasn’t much left. It was ugly. 

Stone looked away and up to confirm what he already knew: they were just under the window of the Chancellor’s office. It was lit in red by the force-field generator which had been set up as an emergency window.

The Commander sighed, stood up, and gestured for his men to bring a new stretcher. It would be the fourth that they had found. Two had been in alcoves of the Chancellor’s office, and another had fallen down here, although this one had been post-mortem, maybe blown out when the window had been smashed.

It was difficult to swallow for Stone and all the troopers. They were supposed to protect the Jedi, and they had failed.

“Commander Fox,” Stone called on his comlink.

“Yes, Stone?”

“Sir. Four dead confirmed: General Windu, Fisto, Kolar, and Tiin.”

“... Understood. Prepare the bodies and escort them back to the Temple.”

“Yes, Sir.” 

Stone and Fox reached the Temple’s processional way at the same time. A whole battalion had been deployed around the building, against a single company usually. Fox had just finished giving them their orders. They were deploying with military precision.

Fox stared at the four covered stretchers before turning toward the doors of the Temple. 

General Shaak Ti was waiting for them, watching the troopers taking position with a frown. “Commander Fox. What is—” She stopped as she noticed the stretchers. Four, just as the number of Masters who had left to stop the Chancellor. She reached for the Force and confirmed their identity, the passing of their beings into the Force. She reached for the clones and only felt determination and protection. 

“General,” Fox said, saluting. 

She didn’t wait for him to find the appropriate words — there weren’t any.

“What happened?” she asked.

“We were too late in identifying the Traitor, Sir. The Generals died before we could execute him.”

“You… executed the Chancellor?” she asked tentatively.

“Yes, Sir. He won’t hurt another Jedi ever again, you have my word.’”

“I—” She didn’t understand how the troopers could have succeeded against a Sith so powerful that four Masters of the Council had failed. “What about General Skywalker?” He must be the key. He might have held back the Sith long enough for the troopers to act…

“General Skywalker is… currently indisposed,” Fox replied stiffly. “The 501st are taking care of him.”

“Indisposed? Was he injured? You should bring him to the Temple then.”

“No, not injured… more like… confused. Very confused,” Fox said with a tilt of his head, remembering the snarling General. 

“Why don’t you report exactly what happened?” Shaak Ti suggested, hoping to clear her confusion.

“If you wish, Sir, but may I ask you to do so inside?”

“Yes, of course, you’re right. Please, come in,” Shaak Ti walked to the gate where she stopped to talk to the Keeper and ask him to deal with the bodies. Master Jurook nodded, watching somberly as the stretchers passed by him.

Shaak Ti led Fox and Stone deeper inside, to a room used to welcome guests. “Tell me everything,” she asked.

Fox’s report was as thorough as he had been taught, but since he hadn’t seen the confrontation between the Sith and the Jedi, it lacked most of the information Shaak Ti needed. She understood one thing: ‘confused’ was the troopers’ polite phrasing for ‘falling to the dark side’.

“I’d prefer you have Anakin Skywalker brought back to the Temple,” she stated. Whatever had happened with him, he could be better dealt with here.

“I’ll let Commander Appo knows, General. In the meantime, may I suggest reinforcing your defenses inside the Temple with Commander Stone’s battalion, Sir?”

Stone saluted at being mentioned, feeling honored to be trusted with such a task.

Shaak Ti pressed her lips together before answering: “While I appreciate the reinforcements you have brought to defend the Temple’s perimeter, Jedi have always protected the inside of our home on our own.”

“With all due respect, Sir, that was before you lost four of your most experienced fighters and leaders,” Fox pointed out. “My apologies if I’m wrong, but aren’t you the only member of the Council left on Coruscant? … currently ‘stable’, I mean.”

“I am,” she admitted.

“Leave the defense of the Temple to us, so you can focus on the rest,” Fox suggested.

Shaak Ti hesitated, pressing her hands together. The Commander had a point. She couldn’t handle all the duties of the Council on her own. During the war, they had always made sure that at least four members of the Council were available on Coruscant at all time, and now… she was alone. She needed her fellow councilmembers, and quick, but before that, she needed more urgent help, indeed.

She tilted her head in agreement. “Very well, I accept your offer, Commanders. Thank you for your assistance.”

They left: Stone to deploy his battalion, and Fox to go back to the Senate and deal with the questions of the diplomats. Shaak Ti went to the Temple’s communication center.

When she reached it, a call was already waiting for her. Master Yoda had beat her to it, no doubt feeling the death of their fellow Masters. She breathed in deeply and accepted the call.

“Master Yoda,” she greeted him, bowing her head.

“Tell me,” he asked with an undercurrent of sadness and resignation, his ears drooping in defeat.

Before she could, her screen lit up to inform her of an incoming call.

“Plo is calling,” she explained as she accepted the communication.

“Yes,” Yoda sighed. “Reach for the others, you might as well do. Repeated as less as possible, bad news should be.”

Nodding in understanding, Shaak Ti called for the rest of the Council. Only two others managed to answer: Obi-Wan Kenobi and Depa Billaba. The others were probably still engaged in combat.

“I was just thinking of calling,” Obi-Wan noted as he took in the gathered Masters. 

“Likewise,” Depa agreed. She was the only one of them in a sitting cross-legged position, but she didn’t shift. She must be on the field: there was no seat under her, just rock.

“I take it we all noticed anomalies?” Plo asked.

“Worse than that, I fear,” Yoda said. “Master Ti, tell us about Coruscant.”

She briefed them on the situation with all the solemnity required. They bowed their head in mourning, but Obi-Wan took it the worst. That wasn’t what he had expected to hear.

Indeed, many systems away from Coruscant, Obi-Wan was struggling with his grief and guilt. Here, he had been, amused by his troopers’ strange behavior, when some of his colleagues had been murdered by a Sith Lord, and Anakin… Anakin had been falling to the dark side. He could see it, now, in retrospect. He could imagine all too easily how the Chancellor, a _Sith_ , could have swayed Anakin to the dark. Force, he had been so blind...

A trooper in charge of the Negotiator's communication center stood up from his seat when he noticed his General’s distress. He went to grab a stool and pushed it behind the Jedi with a foot and a worried “Sir”. 

Obi-Wan accepted it with a sigh, sitting down slowly. He had learned since he had reached the Negotiator that it was useless to resist his troopers' well-meaning gestures. They worried and fretted until he bent to their will, and he couldn’t bear to be the source of their concern.

“Strange, this is,” Yoda was saying. “The Sith winning, I expected. Dead, the Chancellor truly is?”

“Commander Fox gave me his word. The troopers have been very… considerate,” Shaak Ti explained with a glance to the projection of Obi-Wan. They had all seen that foot appearing on the holoprojection.

“That was actually what I was calling about,” Plo Koon commented before sharing what had happened to him.

“I noticed the same,” Depa confirmed. She glanced to the side. “They have been especially attentive to my padawan.”

“How so?” Yoda asked, his ears perking up in interest.

“He made the offhand comment that the night was cold,” Depa explained. “He’s currently swaddled in the blankets of the whole squad and failing to convince them he doesn’t need that much.”

The idea lightened the mood considerably. 

Even Obi-Wan smiled and commented: “I wish I could see that.”

“It can certainly be arranged,” Depa said, bending closer to her holoprojector. After a moment of adjustment, she disappeared and they could see instead a padawan bundled into a cozy blanket fort with several troopers bending down to arrange it. 

The padawan noticed the attention and called: “Master, tell them I’m fine!”

They could hear Depa’s amusement as she replied: “It seems our men are in an overprotective mood. You might as well indulge them, Caleb, if it will make them feel better.”

“Master!” Caleb protested before he disappeared from the holoprojection.

“As amusing as it is,” Plo commented once Depa was back in view. “It is rather concerning as well. Commander Wolffe mentioned an ‘order sixty-six’ I’m unaware of.” He explained in details what he had learned.

“Commander Cody talked about traitors too. This order must be directly linked to their change of behavior,” Obi-Wan pointed out. 

He glanced at Shaak Ti, who nodded in agreement and said for the others:

“This must be the biochip’s doing. The chip that the Kaminoan insisted was necessary to control them and their aggressivity.”

“Control them to the point of removing their critical thinking and changing their own will? This is unacceptable,” Plo protested.

“Agreed,” Depa said with a nod.

“Cleared, this matter must be,” Yoda agreed. “But many other tasks, there are. Our help, Master Ti needs. Troubling, Anakin Skywalker’s state is. And its end, this war hasn’t reached.”

They murmured words of agreement and tried to readjust their tasks to the best effect. After a moment, Yoda summed up:

“Master Kenobi, go back to Coruscant, you should. Master Koon, investigate on Kamino, you will. Master Billaba, finish on Kaller before going to Coruscant, you should. The same on Kashyyk, I will do.”

They nodded in agreement.

“Each one of us should personally spread the news to our Corps,” Obi-Wan suggested. 

Each member of the Council had under its purview several Corps all led by a Jedi Master. 

“How should we share the leaderless Corps?” Depa asked, reminding them all of the absence of several Generals.

It was extra work for all of them when they were all already overwhelmed, but it had to be done. 

“I can take over… Mace’s Corps,” Obi-Wan volunteered with a lump in his throat. “We worked together several times, I’m familiar with them.”

Plo Koon volunteered to take over Kit Fisto’s. Depa took over Saesee Tiin’s. Before Shaak Ti could agree to handle Agent Kolar’s, Yoda stepped in and reminded her:

“Dealing with the Senate, you’re now responsible for.”

All of them winced, and Obi-Wan commented with a hint of dry humor: “I’m pretty sure you got the worst deal.”

“Indeed,” Plo agreed before asking: “What about those who couldn’t join us?”

“I recorded our conversation, I’ll make sure it reaches them,” Shaak Ti promised.

“Remember to delegate,” Obi-Wan suggested with a frown. “Don’t let yourself be overwhelmed.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ll return the suggestion.”

He bowed his head with self-deprecation. “Fair enough.”

On the Negotiator, the door to the communication center opened, and Obi-Wan glanced at it to see Cody step in. “But something tells me I wouldn’t be allowed to.” He glanced at the Communication Officer, and the trooper held his eyes without any shame for calling the Commander.

Obi-Wan shook his head and sighed. “Masters. I’ll see you soon. May the Force be with us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> List of things which are a pain to write in Star Wars fandom:  
> \- Yoda speaking,  
> \- Plo Koon's body language.


	7. Appo, Rex and Ahsoka - You need an army to save a General

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NB: Rex is a Commander here because 1) he's a competent officer who really deserves a promotion, and 2) he's leading a battalion on Mandalore and only Commanders are supposed to do that, so I suppose it's canon but not officially stated.  
> (Ranks and unit structures don't make sense in canon anyway, but I'm trying to correct it.)

“Sir, you need to rest.”

Obi-Wan hummed but waved a hand as he focused on the communication console. “Not yet, Cody. I have to finish contacting every General.”

“Sir, most of them are on the battlefield. It can wait,” Cody insisted, reaching for his Jedi. The touch was light and discreet on Obi-Wan’s forearm, but it was unusual enough that it caught his attention. Cody didn't usually touch him unless it was an emergency.

Obi-Wan looked down at the fingers resting on his sleeve and then up at his Commander, feeling his concern and protectiveness. It was heartwarming, the troopers’ care for him. However, since his conversation with the Council, he was acutely aware that they weren’t doing this of their own free will, which left him extremely conflicted. It was one more thing to be added to the growing list of how wrong this war was going, right under Anakin’s… state, and his colleagues and friends’ death. Obi-Wan felt like he might drown if he allowed himself one second to think about it all. It was much easier to focus on what he had to do.

“No, they all deserve to be personally informed,” Obi-Wan insisted, pressing onto the button to call his next contact.

Cody made a strange sound between a growl and a hiss (Obi-Wan threw him a startled look), but the call connected. Cody stepped away from the holoprojector’s reach and bided his time.

A male Lasat appeared and nodded in greeting. “Master Kenobi."

Obi-Wan stretched his lips into a smile. “Master Tapal. How are you and your padawan?”

Instead of answering, Jaro Tapal glanced to the side and asked someone out of reach: “How are you, padawan?” There was an inaudible answer. “Mind your manners, young one.”

A human boy, no older than twelve, appeared on holo. He had some kind of half-eaten treat in hand, and he grinned sheepishly while swallowing. 

“Sorry, Master. I said that I was great. Hello, Master Kenobi.”

“Greetings, Padawan Kestis. May I enquire about your treat?”

They were rare among the GAR, unfortunately. Rationing was in full force.

“It’s chocolate, Master! Commander Nimble gave it to me for passing my last training!”

“I see. That’s kind of him. I hope you thanked him.”

“Of course,” Cal Kestis replied happily while throwing a big grin to someone out of sight.

“Padawan, why don’t you join the Commander for his review of the situation on Mygeeto? You’ll brief me once it’s done.”

The padawan agreed easily and left the holoprojection after bowing to Obi-Wan.

Jaro waited a moment, presumably while the others left, before commenting: “While the men have always been mindful of my padawan, I noticed an increase in their overprotective habits. A possible consequence of our last battle on Bracca. It has been difficult for Cal.”

“I’m afraid it’s a bit more complicated than that,” Obi-Wan sighed. “It’s one of the reasons I was calling.” He gave the run-down of what had happened recently, for the fourth time of the day (repeating it didn't make it any easier, even when he didn't mention Anakin).

“I see,” Jaro said, frowning. “I’ll keep an eye on the situation.”

“I’m sure it will be resolved once Master Koon reaches Kamino.”

“If this _chip_ can force the clones to protect us, isn’t the reverse true?” Jaro commented, crossing his arms. “I don’t see this resolved in any other way than with the removal of this chip.”

Obi-Wan’s smile bordered a wince. “I see your point, Master Tapal. Rest assured that we’ll do our best to resolve this matter.”

Jaro nodded. “I trust you, Master Kenobi, but I know how overworked you are. We received orders to leave for Mygeeto, do they stand?”

“They do. Master Mundi is experiencing difficulties on Mygeeto, he needs your reinforcements. When you reach him, he might have not received the news yet, depending on his situation. In which case, I’d be grateful if you could brief him.”

“Of course.”

They bid farewell to each other, and the communication ended.

Obi-Wan glanced hesitantly toward Cody. He had felt his anger at the suggestion that the clones could be forced to hurt the Jedi, but the Commander had stayed silent and unmoving.

“Cody…”

“Rex warned me, Sir.”

“... About?”

“The chip. He warned me, but I didn’t listen. I refused to believe it could…” Cody clenched his fists and jaw before calming down. 

“How does it feel to you… this order sixty-six?” Obi-Wan asked tentatively.

“Natural. We’re meant to protect the Jedi.”

“And you don’t see a difference between now and before?”

Cody took a moment to consider his answer. “I do. You’re my _first_ priority now.”

“I’m sorry. We’ll fix this, I promise,” Obi-Wan sighed, smoothing his hair back.

Cody threw him an exasperated look. “Chip or no chip, Sir, it doesn’t change much. You’re _always_ a priority.”

Obi-Wan blushed at the sheer sincerity coming from his Commander. “Well… I appreciate the sentiment, but there is much to do,” he said while reaching for his next contact.

Cody caught his wrist before he could select another Master to talk to. “Sir. I insist. It has been sixteen hours since the beginning of the campaign on Utapau. You fought and killed General Grievous today. You need to rest.”

“I can’t.”

“I’ll call the other Masters for you, Sir, if you’d just—”

“I _can’t_ , Cody!” 

They froze at the outburst. Obi-Wan had raised his voice. He never raised his voice, not on Cody. Especially not with such an edge of desperation.

“Sir?” Cody asked softly, stepping close, tilting his head to meet Obi-Wan’s elusive eyes. He realized that the General was glancing toward the Communication Officers who were in the room with them. With a few hand signs, Cody ordered them to leave. They complied in silence. Once they were alone, Cody reached for Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Sir, talk to me.”

Shaking his head, Obi-Wan pulled back and pressed a hand to his face, to hide his crumpling expression. “I can’t,” he repeated softly. “If I stop, if I think about… I failed him, Cody. I _failed him_. Anakin has Fallen. The Chancellor turned him to the dark side, and I didn’t… I let him...”

Cody took Obi-Wan’s hand in his and grabbed the back of his General’s neck with the other. He let their foreheads touch as he whispered: “You didn’t let anyone do anything, Sir. I was there, by your side, every damn time you tried to knock some sense into General Skywalker’s thick head. I can’t pretend to understand exactly what happened and what it means, but this is not _your_ fault. This is the Traitor’s doing. It’s harsh, and it hurts, but it’s done, and we’ll deal with it. Because I know damn well that you’ll keep fighting for Skywalker until your last breath, and damn if that doesn’t piss me off sometimes, but I’ll be by your side every step of the way, Sir. Me, and all the 212th and the 501st. All of us, we’ll make this right.”

Obi-Wan’s face contorted into a distressed expression, and Cody squeezed his hand and neck. “We’re there for you, Sir, but you have to let us help. Let me deal with the calls. Go to sleep, so you can be rested once we reach Coruscant and Skywalker.”

“I won’t be able to sleep,” Obi-Wan protested.

“Then let Helix give you a sleeping aid. I know you don’t like them, but this is for Skywalker, remember?” He had no shame about using his General’s weaknesses to get his way. It was for the greater good.

From disgust to annoyance to resignation, Obi-Wan’s face went through a wide range of emotions before settling into acceptance. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Damn right, Sir,” Cody confirmed, letting his hand slid to his General’s cheek. 

Exhausted, Obi-Wan leaned into the touch. “What would I do without you, Commander?”

“Fortunately for you, Sir, you won’t have to find out.”

Obi-Wan’s little smile satisfied Cody greatly. He passed a call to Helix so the medic would come and get the General to bed.

Once that was done, the Commander asked the Communications officers back at their posts: “Someone, call Commander Rex and tell him to get his ass back on Coruscant, _yesterday_. Now, let’s record and get the news to the whole First and Third System Armies, troopers. We all need some rest too before the nightmare that will be Coruscant.” 

oOo

Commander Appo had never regretted his promotion more than at this exact moment. He was watching his General through the armored window of a detention cell, of all things (they had made sure it had more comfort than most prisoners would have, but they couldn't trust the General anywhere else: he'd have hacked his way out). 

General Skywalker had regained consciousness just a few minutes after his transfer to the Resolute. Despite Commander Fox’s warning, Appo hadn’t really believed that his General would be a danger to him and his men. Yes, Anakin Skywalker had some scary mood swings sometimes, but he cared for his troopers. Still, Fox was a Marshall Commander, and he had thought best to keep Skywalker’s lightsaber separated from the General, so Appo had respected his choice. In retrospect, it might be the only reason he was still standing.

As soon as he had woken up, General Skywalker had jumped on his feet and demanded to see the Chancellor. When he had been denied, he had become enraged, grabbed Appo by the neck, and then projected him against a wall. When he had turned against other troopers, hurting his own men, Appo had had no choice. He had ordered Kix to sedate their General. 

Kriff, it physically hurt to give the order, but he had to!

Rubbing his temples to calm his headache, Appo tried to clear his mind. What did he do now? He couldn’t keep General Skywalker in a detention cell for long. 

If only Rex was here, he would know… Yes, that was an idea!

“Someone, call Commander Rex and tell him to get here, and quick!” Appo shouted toward a Lieutenant who nodded and left. When in doubt, calling Rex to wrangle the General couldn’t go wrong. There were two other options, of course, but one was no more available (damn, he missed Commander Ahsoka), and the other was… the last option possible because, kriff, if Commander Cody learned that Appo had sedated his General, he might not recover… and that was if General Kenobi’s disappointed look didn’t make Appo’s head explode first. Oh, no, wait, there was another option…

Appo glanced toward Kix. “Do you think we should call the Senator?”

Kix made a face. “Sir, the Senator is reaching term. I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

Appo let out a sound of disquiet. Of course, he couldn’t let anything endanger Senator Amidala… not even the General himself. 

After a few more minutes to think about what to do (regulations didn’t cover this situation, damn it!), a lieutenant stopped by his side and said:

“Sir, Commander Fox called. He says that General Shaak Ti orders us to bring General Skywalker to the Temple.”

Appo’s headache eased, and he relaxed with a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank the Force.”

Yes, letting the Jedi deal with the moody General. That was good, yes, excellent.

This situation was so above his pay grade.

oOo

It was over, finally. The Siege of Mandalore was over. Maul was dead. Ahsoka had made sure of it.

It was a relief. Rex smiled as his men removed their helmets and took care of each other now that the battlefield had been cleared of enemies. 

Rex went for his comlink first. It had been beeping constantly this last hour, but he had been too busy leading his battalion to care about what went on outside of it. He chose to watch the latest message first since it came from Cody. 

“Vod,” the 212th’s Commander said as he appeared, “the reason you’re not answering better be because you’re avoiding imminent death. Anything else isn’t valid. I need you back on Coruscant to deal with your kriffing General before mine gets burnout. You were right about the chip, but I was right about your General, which probably means we have the worst kriffing luck. I’ll see you on Coruscant, soon. And… you might want to bring _her_. At least for moral support.”

“What is he talking about?”

Rex startled and turned around to see Ahsoka surrounded by several men of Torrent Company. They had been on protective formation before Rex could even order them to. Captain Ridge was good at his job.

“Rex? Is something going on?” Ahsoka asked, stopping by his side.

“I think so. I’ve got a lot of messages,” he admitted, listening to the two previous ones. One came from the 501st, a request from Appo asking him to come back in haste to Coruscant for “the General’s wellbeing”. The other was a message from the 212th asking for the same.

Ahsoka frowned. “What happened to Skyguy?” 

“I…” Rex tensed as he remembered Cody’s words. He had been right about the chip (and what does that mean? did another trooper go wrong?), but Cody had been right about General Skywalker. All that Cody had ever said… was that Skywalker was flirting with the dark. Kriff, no. Not that!

Hoping he would get a clearer answer, Rex listened to the first message he had received. He was startled at the hooded silhouette who appeared and said three words before disappearing. 

“Was that the Chancellor?” Ahsoka asked, frowning. “And what’s order sixty-six?”

Rex was just as perplexed, but Cody’s words about the chip came back to mind. He turned around to glance at his men.

“Captain Ridge… did you get the Chancellor’s message?”

“Yes, Sir. It was forwarded by the Marshall Commander.”

“What’s order sixty-six?” Ahsoka repeated.

Rex tilted his head. “Answer her.”

“Order sixty-six states that the Chancellor is a Traitor and must be executed, but that the protection of all Jedi is priority number one,” Ridge explained obediently. 

Rex let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. For a brief moment, he had feared… but no, of course not, they wouldn’t hurt the Jedi. Still, something was wrong. His troopers were reacting to this order much differently than he did, and the only difference was that he had removed his chip.

“Ma’am, I have to ask you again to let us bring you back to the ship,” Ridge was telling Ahsoka.

“Are you being all protective because of this order, Captain?" she asked, crossing her arms. "I’m not a Jedi, anymore, remember?”

Ridge tapped his helmet. “I know, Ma’am, but it gives us all a damn headache to see you walking around with those lightsabers and no kriffing protection, so if you could just let us—”

“No. I’m not part of the GAR anymore, and—

“You might want to come,” Rex interrupted.

Ahsoka looked at him, questioning.

“I think I have a rough idea of what’s going on… and you won’t like it,” he admitted. What's more, Cody had suggested she came.

“It’s either that, Ma’am, or I’m finding you armor,” Ridge commented very seriously, “because all those vital points on display give me anxiety.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Mando'a, vod means "brother".
> 
> Jaro Tapal and Cal Kestis are characters from the video game "Jedi Fallen Order". If you like videogames, I highly recommend it. The game is good, and Cal Kestis (the main character) is a cutie who deserves all the chocolate he can eat.


	8. Fox, Appo and Cody deal with Senator and General

As she came out of her office at the Senate, Padmé caught sight of a familiar helmet at the end of the hallway, near the turbolift. She picked up the pace until she was nearly running. She arrived just in time to slip inside, among the Coruscant Guard. Dormé had gone first and stalled the door for her — slower than usual — mistress.

The turbolift closed and went down toward the lower levels of the Senate Rotunda.

“Commander Fox,” Padmé said with a smile to the leader of the squad before nodding to the nine others. “Gentlemen.”

“Senator,” Fox greeted her warily. He was used to being accosted by Senators in search of answers, but they were rarely chasing him down (literally). 

Especially now that the Emergency Session of the Senate had come to an end. Fox had done his report. He had shown the evidence proving that the Chancellor had killed four Jedi Masters using powers only used by the Dark side of the Force. The recording of the Chancellor’s office had been damning. He also had a full squad of Intelligence specialists working on the Chancellor’s files, and they had barely needed a few hours to get incriminating evidence proving Palpatine had been a Traitor playing both sides of the war. 

The Senate had been in an uproar, but they had no choice but to admit to the betrayal. Thus, Vice-Chancellor Mas Amedda’s attempt to take over the role of leader by interim had been viciously shouted down. There had been no way for him to get a word in, he had to step down. It left the Senate leaderless. As per protocol, an Emergency Election was called. It would happen in a week, which left very little time for candidates to campaign. Thus, most of them had already forgotten the Troopers and the Jedi, no matter how strange they had acted against Palpatine, in favor of worrying about politics.

Padmé wasn’t among them.

“Commander, I heard that General Skywalker was on Coruscant, but you didn’t mention him during your report,” she said, trying to lead him into giving her what she wanted.

Unfortunately for her, Fox had spent all of the war in contact with the Senate, and he had learned one major thing out of it: keeping his mouth shut as much as possible in their vicinity.

Thus, he replied noncommittally: “Yes, Senator.” 

Padmé sighed and admitted defeat. At this point, her worry beat her wish for discretion. “Is he well?”

“He’s in the care of the Temple."

She frowned. That implied he was alive but unwell. “What happened?”

“I’m sorry, Senator, I’m not at discretion to say.”

They reached the floor the Troopers were going to, and they walked out, leaving Padmé alone with Dormé. 

“I could go to the Temple for you and see what I can learn,” Dormé offered.

Padmé hesitated. She wished to go herself, but the Senate was in such an uproar… she had to support her allies in their efforts to extract the Supreme seat from the hands of warmongers. If they missed this opportunity, who knew how this war would truly end. 

“You’ll tell me as soon as you learn anything,” she asked her friend.

Dormé nodded and squeezed Padmé’s hands. “I promise.”

oOo

Dormé had heard that the Jedi Temple was more guarded than usual, but this… was more than she expected. She was stopped at the beginning of the processional way by two Coruscant Guards.

“Ma’am. Identity control,” one of them said.

She complied easily.

“What is bringing you here?”

“A Senator sent me to get news of Knight Skywalker.”

“I’m sorry, but the Temple is closed to visitors.”

Frowning, Dormé tried to think of a way to circumvent this obstacle when, in a sea of red and white, she caught sight of blue armor passing by, walking away from the Temple. 501st blue. 

“May I just speak to them,” she asked, pointing the troopers out. The guards agreed.

Commander Appo saw her coming. As an officer of the 501st, he was familiar with the handmaidens of Naboo and, as discreet as they could be, they also stood out in their elegance. This one was sliding more than running toward him. He stopped to let her catch up.

“Commander,” Dormé greeted him softly.

“Ma’am,” he replied stiffly. He had an idea of what was coming.

“Senator Amidala wishes for news of General Skywalker.”

It wasn’t the first time that Dormé or Appo found themselves in the situation of enquiring about one part of the lover birds. It was the first time Appo didn’t know how to answer, and Dormé picked up on it easily.

“Is it that bad?” she asked in worry.

Appo had just left General Skywalker in the care of the Jedi. Temple Guards had led a (sleeping) Anakin toward the lower levels of the Temple, and he didn't doubt that there was another detention cell in his General’s immediate future. Admitting it to anyone wasn’t exactly in his list of good news. 

“Is he dying?” Dormé insisted, imagining the worst.

“No,” Appo replied quickly. “No… but, uh… it’s Jedi business,” he blurted out. It wasn’t wrong, after all.

“I see.” Dormé glanced over the squad before offering: “It's a tiring time for everyone, Commander. You must be exhausted. May I offer you all a cup of caf?” She gestured toward the Jedi’s Rest, a popular café at the edge of the plaza.

Appo hesitated, but a glance at his eager men and he relented. It was rare that they could indulge, but it was nearly unheard of that they could do so on someone else’s expense (unless they were their General).

An hour later, Dormé slipped in a meeting room full of Senators and whispered in Padmé's ear: “General Skywalker is physically well,” (Kix had admitted to making a complete check-up before they brought the Jedi to the Temple) “but his mental state is in question.” (That, she had deduced based on many little details they had let slip.)

Padmé nodded in understanding and turned a strained smile toward Bail Organa, who was looking at her with a hint of concern. She had to focus on what she could do, to ensure to her children the best future possible.

oOo 36 hours after the Chancellor’s death oOo

“Hypothetically, Sir. If I swaddled the General in blankets and smuggled him to Naboo, would you cover me?”

Cody threw Boil an unimpressed glance. “Don’t be ridiculous, Captain. Naboo, really? How would that be any less stressful?”

“Oh, right. My bad. Mh… Alderaan?”

“That would be acceptable,” Cody agreed with a nod. “The General is fond of the Sanctuary Coast.”

Boil grinned. “Noted.”

On the other side of the Officers’ break room, Obi-Wan looked up from the report he was consulting and threw them a wary glance over his shoulder. “Why do I feel like you’re plotting against me?”

“You mean _for_ you, Sir,” Cody corrected as he walked to the bench seats and sat down by his General’s side. He pointedly pushed the mostly untouched plate closer to Obi-Wan’s hand.

With a sigh, Obi-Wan grabbed his fork and ate some cake, meeting his Commander’s eyes with exasperation as he did.

Cody smiled at him with obvious satisfaction and then pushed the teacup toward Obi-Wan’s other hand, forcing him to let go of his datapad unless he wanted the cup to fall on his lap. 

“You’re like a tooka,” Obi-Wan grumbled as he caught the cup and lifted it to his lips. “You have all transformed into a bunch of mother tookas.”

Because he was a sassy smart Aleck (despite somehow fooling all the Galaxy into thinking that he was a no-nonsense perfect trooper), Cody nudged the bottom of the cup to force his General to drink.

“Are you satisfied?” Obi-Wan drawled once he had finished his cup. 

Cody nudged the plate pointedly next, and the absurdity of his behavior got Obi-Wan to snort.

“Really, Cody, this is ridiculous,” he said, although he continued to eat his cake without any more prompting needed. 

“I agree, Sir, but we all have our cross to bear.”

“And Anakin never believes me when I tell him you’re—” Obi-Wan interrupted himself abruptly, and his mood darkened.

Kriff. Cody had nearly got him to finish his plate. 

After a full night of sleep, Obi-Wan had woken up to a report from Shaak Ti confirming that Anakin had Fallen. Since then, it was a struggle to get him to eat. Helix had started to slip dietary supplements in his tea.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat and reached for his datapad. They had received many reports from Jedi who had received the briefing on Order 66 and confirmed that their troopers were showing signs of overprotectiveness. Obi-Wan was all too eager to focus on that rather than on the real issue who was hurting him.

Cody had let him, but they had rehashed the subject enough. Until Plo Koon could give them news from Kamino, there was nothing they could add. 

“You’ll help him, Sir,” he tried to say in comfort, “just like you helped General Vos.”

“I didn’t help Quinlan,” Obi-Wan protested. “Quinlan helped himself! With Ventress’s assistance, at best. I merely pledged for his pardon. And that, that’s the whole issue, Cody. Helping someone who has Fallen? It has never been done. Either you can get yourself back to the Light on your own, or you can’t. There’s no precedent, no protocol, no… no hint of what I can do to help him.” His voice broke, and he hid his face in his hands, rubbing his beard and then his eyes. “I don’t know what to do,” he whispered in defeat.

Cody looked around them and made a discreet hand sign to ask his brothers to give them some privacy. Obediently, the officers changed seats toward the other side of the room. Cody leaned forward with his forearms on the table so they could talk in hushed tones.

“Do you remember that time when Rex was hurting, after that whole mess with Fives? I didn’t know what to do to help him. You said the only thing I could do was to be there for him, that this was Rex’s fight, but that I could help by showing I was by his side. Well, Sir… I won’t pretend to understand this whole Falling business, but it sounds to me like it’s the same. You’re telling me this is on Skywalker, whether he comes back to the Light or not. If that’s it, then… all you can do is be there for him. Isn’t it?”

Obi-Wan shifted his hands under his chin and glanced at his Commander, considering. After a moment, he nodded slowly. “I suppose you’re right.”

“It’s kriffing difficult, Sir, to see someone you care for hurting, I know that. But this isn’t on you.”

“It feels like it, Cody. It really does,” Obi-Wan sighed. “But you’re right, of course, it would be conceited to think that’s it all about me. No, I have to focus on what Anakin needs." He tapped his forearms thoughtfully. "I think… I think I should talk to Senator Amidala.”

“I’ll have her brought to you as soon as we’re on planet,” Cody agreed, pleased that his Jedi was looking for help.

“It’s not necessary, I’ll go to her…”

“I would rather not, Sir. Sources indicate that the Senate is even more of a viper’s nest than usual.” 

Fox was exasperated, and Cody had the feeling that the Commander of the Coruscant Guard was all too happy to have the excuse of looking after the Jedi Temple so he could avoid the Senate. Cody didn't blame him. 

“That is indeed the definition of election time,” Obi-Wan quipped before relenting. “But, very well.”

oOo 60 hours after the Chancellor's death oOo

When she received the call, Padmé had to leave a meeting with members of the Delegation of 2,000. 

This group of Senators had demanded for many weeks that Palpatine return to the Senate his emergency powers, creating and signing the eponymous official petition. Now, they had to become more than opposition: they had to stand together behind one candidate to have a chance to win the election and bring back the Senate to its peaceful ideal. In the last days, they had reduced the candidates to half a dozen, which was a great success in itself, but they needed _one_ name by the end of the day so they could campaign.

After Dormé whispered in her ear that Master Kenobi was looking for her, Padmé stood up without hesitation. Eyes turned toward her.

“Senators, I must apologize, but the Jedi have requested my presence. I believe it’s in our best interest to learn more about their situation.”

Whispers of agreement spread. Since the Temple had been closed to the public, no Jedi had been seen. General Shaak Ti had only sent a brief holomessage to the Senators. She had informed them that the Order was so strained with the death of four Councilors that she was overworked and regretted she couldn’t be available in this critical time for the Senate. She had urged them all to do the right choice for peace and the stability of the galaxy.

“Before I take my leave, I’d like to reiterate my complete faith in Senators Mon Mothma and Bail Organa,” Padmé stated, turning toward the two other leaders of the Delegation who were sitting on her right. “Their experience, strength of character, and morality are our best chances in this election. I’ll gladly follow either of them, and I urge you all to do the same.”

Approvals sounded out around the room. Bail and Mon smiled at her, and Padmé left after a bow.

A small ship with troopers of the 212th was waiting for her on a nearby landpad, and Padmé stepped in without hesitation with Dormé by her side. She had complete faith in Obi-Wan. He’d give her the answers she needed about Anakin.

She was dropped off directly inside the Temple. As she came down the ramp, she caught sight of Obi-Wan waiting for her, his Commander by his side. She ran to him. They hugged and kissed each other’s cheek.

“I’m so glad to see you,” she said. “I was terribly worried. There are so many rumors, about the Jedi… about Anakin…”

Obi-Wan led her toward a turbolift with a hand on her back. Once they were inside, alone with Cody and Dormé, he took her hands and faced her. At his dejected expression, she knew without a doubt that it was bad, but when he explained, she had to lean on him, feeling short of breath. 

"My lady," Dormé whispered in worry, holding her elbow.

Obi-Wan held her, taking her weight, and asked with worry: “Do you need to sit down?”

“I’m fine, I’m alright,” Padmé murmured, already pulling herself together. She rested a hand on the bottom of her belly, feeling like it suddenly weighed more than usual. “This… I can’t believe it. Are you sure?”

“We’ll be able to see it with our own eyes. We’re here,” he replied as the door opened on an underground level.

The man they saw behind a one-way mirror was pallid with shadows under his yellow eyes. He paced like a beast in a cage, and his rage could be felt even by non-Jedi. Padmé turned around, white as a sheet. Cody urgently dragged a seat to her when she wavered. She sat down heavily and tried to regulate her breathing to avoid a panic attack. Dormé pulled a fan out of the many pockets of her cape and she fanned Padmé's face with a frown of worry. 

This was worse than everything Padmé had imagined. She had refused to think about anything else than a possible burnout, but this… oh, this was a nightmare. She cupped her abdomen with worry.

Leaning with one hand on the mirror, Obi-Wan wasn’t faring much better. For long minutes, they watched in silence. Obi-Wan was the first to speak weakly: “He needs our help.”

Padmé sniffed, nodded, and then asked: “Tell me what to do.”

They could fix this. Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will not go in details about Anakin, as this isn't the point of this story.  
> Aaand, my little muse made up her mind regarding who changed the chip's code. :D You'll know... soon. :3


	9. Wolffe, his General, and the mystery of order 66

The 104th arrived on Kamino four days after the Chancellor’s death. During this time, Wolffe felt like his General was playing a game with his troopers, and they were losing… miserably.

“Sir,” he sighed (not whined, a Commander didn’t _whine_ ) two hours before they were planned to land on Kamino. He rubbed his right temple, on the side of his cybernetic eye. It tended to ache when he got jittery. “It has to be the ninth report I got about you endangering yourself in some way in the last three days. You’ve never been so accident-prone _ever_. What’s going on?”

Plo hummed as he prepared his favorite tea. “Ninth? Mh. So some troopers kept it for themselves. Good to know.” Satisfied with his cup, he went to sit down at his desk.

Wolffe followed him, his eyebrow twitching unpleasantly. “There are supposed to be _more_?”

“I suppose it would depend on your definition of ‘endangering oneself’.”

The analytical tone clued Wolffe in. “Sir, are you testing us?”

“You? Of course not, Commander. I’m merely evaluating the parameters of this control chip and precisely of its order sixty-six.” Plo stuck a straw in the entry tube of his mask and sipped his tea. 

Kriff. His General would be the death of him.

“Sir, please, don’t do that, it’s…”

“Very anxiogenic for you. Yes, I noticed. Rest assured that I apologized to every trooper I have bothered and eased their mind afterward. Unfortunately, these temporary distresses were necessary. We need to understand how this order works. For example, when you’re given a direct order contrary to your need for protection, you may follow this order but at the cost of physical pain.”

Wolffe twitched. He remembered that report. “That was cruel to Sinker, Sir.”

“Yes. I healed his headache and gave him his favorite Alderaan treat to apologize. However, when given the same order by the Admiral, Warthog refused entirely.”

“ _That_ was cruel to the Admiral, Sir. He nearly got a black eye.”

“Yes, and he didn’t appreciate being asked if he was a traitor. That cost me my best tea.”

Wolffe huffed. “Are you satisfied with your tests now?”

Plo hummed in confirmation. “I have enough testimonies from other Generals to complete my own. Did you know that your brothers react twice as badly when a padawan is concerned? Last I heard, Padawan Kestis got a permanent bodyguard.”

“I didn’t, but I’m not surprised. They’re kids. Enough said.”

“Indeed.”

“So now I can tell the medic to relax, then.”

Plo looked up. “You’re displeased. I understand. Be assured that I did not do this lightly.”

“I know, Sir. It just… brings back bad memories.”

Plo tilted his head in question. “Kamino?”

“Yes. There were… a lot of tests.”

Nodding in understanding, the Jedi asked kindly: “Will you be alright going back?”

“Sir, I’d follow you anywhere.”

oOo

And Wolffe indeed followed Plo through Tipoca’s cloning complex like a good trooper, keeping his thoughts for himself as the Jedi met with the long necks and asked about the chips. 

The Kaminoans were as tight-lipped as either. They only reacted when Plo revealed the consequences of order sixty-six. Lama Su froze, and Nala Se blinked.

“Was it not your intent?” Plo asked calmly.

The long necks immediately recovered and spewed a lot of bullshit. Wolffe barely listened, knowing without a doubt that nothing useful would come from them. Plo soon gave up as well.

They were alone in a large hallway when Wolffe asked: “Did you get anything from all that poodoo, Sir?”

“I did,” Plo murmured thoughtfully as he looked around them. He pressed a finger to his mask and then hurried toward another hallway.

Grinning at the prospect of sneaking around, Wolffe followed eagerly. 

After a few turns, they arrived into a maintenance zone, and Plo kneeled to reach a vent. He gestured for Wolffe to listen.

The Commander strained to hear. The long necks were speaking in their native tongue, but Wolffe knew enough of it to understand the basics:

“How could it have been edited?” Lama Su was asking. 

“I’ll reinforce our security measures,” Nala Se replied. “Should I get it back to its original state?”

There was a moment of silence as if they were considering it. 

“No. With the Chancellor dead and the Senate leaderless, the Jedi are in charge of the GAR. Just… change their obedience level. CC-3636 was far too defiant.”

Wolffe gritted his teeth at his designation, but his General rested a hand on his shoulder in comfort. Wolffe breathed in deeply and let it go. The Kaminoans’ disregard wasn’t anything new.

They took a few steps back, and Plo crossed his arms in thought.

“Order sixty-six wasn’t meant to be what it is today. It was edited by someone not Kaminoan. And Nala Se plans to edit it again. Interesting.”

“Sir?”

“If the one responsible for this change is still around and they learn of this. Wouldn’t they try to undo it?” Plo asked.

“Stakeout?” Wolffe guessed. At his General’s nod, he sighed. “And if they aren’t around anymore or don’t learn about it? We don’t know what will happen to us after the Kaminoans’ modification.”

The General paused and then reached for Wolffe’s shoulder. “I’ll make sure you’re back to normal, Commander. You have my word.”

Wolffe nodded. “I trust you, Sir.”

oOo

Wolffe hated stakeout. Patience wasn’t exactly his forte. However, they took shifts. Wolffe was napping while his General was meditating when Boost called.

“Sir. I’ve got a contact. A droid just went inside. An astromech type.”

Plo hummed as he opened his eyes. “Smart. Reprogramming a droid to do it without risk of being noticed…”

“Shall Boost follow him, Sir?”

“No, our hacker would be too smart to make contact with this droid. We’re looking for someone with exceptional skills in programming and hacking. Someone familiar with the facilities and discreet work...”

“Meili Kocho.” 

All eyes turned toward Sinker, questioning.

The slicer shrugged. “She’s one of the Cuy'val Dar and the programming instructor. I think she’s still here, the last shinies we got were still taught by her.”

“Interesting. What else can you tell us about her?” Plo asked.

“She’s Pantoran, Sir. She doesn’t follow the Mandalorian way and doesn’t like to wear armor, but she used to boast that Jango Fett chose her because she was the best slicer he knew.”

“Well, that’s enough for me,” Plo decided. “We’ll go and see her tomorrow.”

oOo

They found Meili Kocho overviewing a lesson, but she seemed more interested in eating her breakfast than anything else. She was walking among rows of clones focused on screens with a bowl of cereals in hand. She was making comments between each mouthful.

Once she caught sight of them, she changed her path toward them, but she took her time, still glancing at each screen while she walked.

The Pantoran had very dark purple hair and dark eyes. She was on the chubby side and had an average height, but compared to the clones or Plo Koon, she looked small. 

She didn’t seem particularly impressed or disturbed by a full squad of mature clones led by a Jedi, though. She stopped in front of them, chewed on her mouthful while she considered them and then asked: 

“Yep? Can I help you?”

“Instructor Kocho, I believe? I’m Master Plo Koon. My slicer, Sinker, told me you were the most knowledgeable individual on Kamino regarding coding.”

Sinker straightened at being mentioned, and Kocho glanced at him curiously.

“You bet I am. Hi, sweetie. Did you hack anything interesting lately?”

“I reprogrammed a Droideka to fire on the enemy, Ma’am.”

“Ooh, nice. Give me five.” She raised a palm, and Sinker obediently stepped forward to give her a high five.

Wolffe watched this exchange dubiously. He had never met an instructor so… laid-back. If that was what the slicers were used to, it explained a few things about their slang and strange habits.

“Didn’t you have time for breakfast this morning?” Plo asked good-naturedly as if to make conversation.

“Nah. Was busy with a side project,” she replied before pointedly eating again and chewing. “So, what do you need me for?” 

“Sixty-six,” Plo said softly to keep the first rows of eavesdropping clones in the dark.

Kocho didn’t react outwardly, but she didn’t seem confused either. “Come back at the end of my classes, in two hours,” she demanded before walking away.

They complied. 

She was in the monitoring area overlooking the classroom when they came in, and she gestured for them to join her. She was chewing on gum and listening to loud music. When they reached her, she lowered the volume just enough to be heard without shouting if they were close. She lifted her feet on the console and leaned back in her chair.

“So, the old geezer gave the order, uh?” She gestured toward a screen showing holonews. “They aren’t clear though, who killed him in the end? The Jedi or the Guard?” 

Wolffe glanced toward his General and only answered when Plo nodded in agreement. “The Guard.”

She grinned sharply and then laughed, putting her feet down to recover from her hilarity. “Good! He’d be pleased,” she commented. “So I guess you’re the reason the long necks tried to update the chip.”

“And you’re the reason they couldn’t,” Plo observed.

Wolffe and his pack had been dreading some change all night, but no-one had noticed anything different.

“Oh, yeah. Updating all chips takes huge bandwidth so it only goes out during the night. Change the code back like, just a few minutes before midnight, and you’re good,” she explained before blowing a pink bubble. "They made it a bit harder this time, it took me twice as long, but nothing I couldn't handle."

“And you programmed a droid to do it remotely.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t hear the end of it if they caught me playing with their toys.”

“Why did you, then?”

“Duh, darling, I’ve been teaching thousands of those boys,” she said, gesturing toward Sinker, smiling at him like she would to a pet, “and, yeah, they’re all a bit redundant, but treating them like droids is pushing it.”

“You edited order sixty-six for the benefit of the clones?” Plo questioned to clarify her position.

She went to reply, paused, and straightened. “Wait. You don’t know,” she breathed as realization dawned on her. She stood up and pointed toward Plo Koon. “You don’t know what order sixty-six was meant to do, do you?” When no answer came, she took it for the confirmation it was. She laughed and rested her hands on her hips. “Oh my, this is _so_ good.”

Wolffe shifted in irritation and took a step forward, meaning to be threatening. 

She only waved a hand at him and said: “Oh, let me enjoy this, sweetie. Nearly fifteen years I’ve been stranded on this wet rock, I have to take my fun where and when I can.”

“We’re on Kamino to understand what happened when order sixty-six was given by the late Chancellor,” Plo explained. “We’d appreciate your help on that matter.”

“Oooh, you owe me so much, Jedi,” she replied, stepping forward. Wolffe got between them, scowling. She tapped his armor instead of Plo Koon’s chest. She smiled at the Commander without shame before glancing at the Jedi. “ _So_ much.”

Understanding what she was hinting at, Plo Koon asked calmly: “What is your price?”

“A job.”

“Pardon?”

“A new job. Soon, this whole morbid cloning affair will end, at least. I’ll need a new job. Well paid. Far from any Hutt’s reach. Teaching or advisory position preferentially, but I’m adaptable. In a core world or mid-rim. NO aquatic or desertic planet,” she stated, listing her requirements while raising her fingers and shaking the last one sharply. “You, Jedi, have so many connections, you can find me something good, right?”

“Potentially,” Plo Koon replied, circumspect. “Why did you agree to this job if Kamino doesn’t agree with you?”

“Well, there was Jango’s pretty face. It helped, like, a lot,” she admitted without a shame, reaching out to pat Sinker's face. “Then, there was the pay, really not bad. Oh, and that little issue with a Hutt or two that forced me to disappear for a while… yep.”

“I’ll do my best for you, depending on the information you have to share,” Plo finally promised.

“Considering how much you owe me, Jedi, I’m expecting something really good, like, consultant for Alderaan’s royalty good,” she warned him.

“I’ll take it into consideration.”

She shrugged and then went back to sit at her console, gesturing for them to come forth. They spread in a semicircle around her, and she tapped for a few moments before two rows of code appeared next to each other.

“On the left, the original order sixty-six. On the right, mine,” she announced proudly.

She waited for them to read and understand. When the first troopers stepped away to hit something, she looked up at Plo Koon and grinned. “So? How much is that for an IOU?” 

Leaning forward with a hand on the back of her chair, Plo replied after a moment: “Did you know that the Jedi Order has civilian consultants?”

“Mh…” She pretended to consider it (although her grin said how much she liked that offer) and then shrugged. “It would do.” When there was a loud noise behind them, she threw over her shoulder: “Sweethearts, don’t break your fist or my stuff. There’s a training room next door.”

Most of the squad actually took that offer and left with Wolffe’s permission. He was tempted to go too, but they weren’t done here. Punching something would have to wait. In the meanwhile, his jaws were clamped tight with fury, and his hands gripped his elbows. Sinker was the only other one to stay due to his specialty. He sat down on Kocho’s left and studied the code in detail.

“How did you learn about this?” Plo asked after seeing the full content of the chip.

“Oh, that’s a nice little story about a clone named Fives whom I met during a bout of insomnia,” she explained between blowing bubbles. “He told me about his theory of the Chancellor having this dreadful plan to kill the Jedi by using the clones. I didn’t believe any of it, of course, but then, two weeks later, next bout of insomnia, I check on his status and I discover he ended up dead, killed by the Coruscant guard for trying to assassinate Palpatine. And I think to myself, damn, he was really into it, uh? Next bout of insomnia, I tell myself: kriff, I’m bored and this is really a weird story, so I might as well break into the long-necks database to check. ‘Lo and behold, what do I find? The boy was _right_. What the kriff, right? So I stick my nose into it and spend a little too much time thinking that my kids are damn cute and it’s a damn shame that some assholes think they’re only droids 2.0. That's how I end up spending an all-nighter on changing that stupid code because kriffing hell, it’s just damn wrong to force kids — especially kids to which you have taught all of their life that the Jedi hang the stars — to kill people they like and respect, right?!”

Meili had ranted with more and more passion and excessive gestures, forcing her audience to pull back. She froze and met their eyes. “Right?” she insisted.

“Quite,” Plo approved warmly.

oOo

That evening, Plo Koon called for a full Council meeting. This time, with the benefit of a few hours of warning, all the Councilors were present. It didn’t mean much though: the Council was down to seven members against its usual twelve. Ki-Adi-Mundi and Stass Allie, who had both been unavailable for the last meeting, had caught up with the state of affairs with the various reports sent by Councilors and Masters. 

In the last days, the war had slowed and even paused in some places. Without orders from Grevious, Dooku or Sidious, the Separatists Forces were floundering. Some were still fighting if they had an officer belligerent and independent enough, but most were worried by the news of the death of many superiors, and they were cutting their losses, fleeing when they could (or at least, trying to).

Republic forces didn’t hesitate. Emboldened, they made decisive strikes to convince the last pockets of resistance to surrender. 

“Master Allie,” Yoda began the meeting, “reached your goal, have you?”

“Yes, Master Yoda. The 91st is deploying around Mustafar as we speak. Masters Vos and Unduli are scheduled to join us soon.”

“Excellent. Land, you shall not, under any circumstances. Dark, this planet is.”

“Yes, Master. I can sense it.”

“It might be difficult for Quinlan,” Obi-Wan noted. 

“I’ll keep an eye on him, Master Kenobi,” Stass promised, getting a nod of thanks in answer.

“Peace might be in reach, at last,” Ki-Adi-Mundi commented, “but at what cost? I have lost five men due to order sixty-six. Men sacrificed themselves to protect me despite knowing better. Master Koon, I’d like to hear what you have to say about this.”

Plo nodded and started his report, sharing what he had learned from Meili Kocho about order sixty-six but also the biochip in general. The truth about the original order cast a shadow over their victorious mood.

Shaak Ti leaned forward in sorrow. “This… This is what Fives tried to warn us about.”

Obi-Wan bowed his head in grief. “He shall be remembered,” he said softly. “Ultimately, we were spared this fate thanks to him and his attempts to be heard, even if the one who did wasn’t the one he expected.”

“Instructor Kocho has a fair heart,” Plo commented.

“Meditate on this, we should. Much, there is to be decided,” Yoda pointed out. “Changed, the fate of the Jedi was. Still uncertain, the fate of the troopers is.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now you know!  
> I hope you aren't disappointed it came from an OC. I figured it made the most sense (without an extraordinary explanation about time-travel and the like, which would have required a whole other fic to develop). Since Fives wasn't a coding specialist himself, he couldn't have done it, but there are other people on Kamino who can be on the clones' side. :)


	10. wiped + if (updated) then (fight back)

Rex and Ahsoka reached Coruscant three days after the 212th. They had to ensure Mandalore’s safety before leaving, organizing the 501st’s battalion they had left behind so it could work without them. Ridge hadn’t been pleased to let Ahsoka go without more back-up. Rex had laughed when, on the way there, they had found armor stacked in her bag. She had rolled her eyes, but Rex knew she had tried it on (now, if only she'd wear it during combat, he'd buy Ridge a glass at 79's, more than one, even).

When they landed on the _Resolute,_ they were greeted by Appo and Cody.

Cody had left his General under the watchful eyes of Boil and his men, trusting that he’d be safe between them and the Temple’s security. The 501st had needed a senior officer’s visit to reassure them that they had done the right thing when dealing with General Skywalker. As a brand new Commander, Appo had been extremely tense at Cody’s arrival. Hopefully, his worries had been put to rest, but the 501st was in dear need of their most senior Commander.

They greeted each other warmly, if a bit hesitant on how to address Ahsoka.

“Just Ahsoka is fine,” she insisted. “Now, what’s going on with Skyguy? Why did you need me?”

“He has Fallen,” Cody stated without beating about the bush.

Rex went wide-eyed, and Ahsoka took a step back. Both let out a passionate “no” of denial.

“No, he… he wouldn’t,” Ahsoka breathed, but her eyes became distant as she thought of all the hints pointing to the contrary.

“Unfortunately, yes. General Kenobi himself confirmed it. Chancellor Palpatine, also called Darth Sidious from what we learned, has twisted him to the dark side, using his fear to lose Senator Amidala and their children,” Cody explained with his arms behind his back. He had to stay calm and detached about it. His General couldn’t be, nor the Senator or the Jedi, so Cody had to be their anchor. When Cody met Obi-Wan at the end of the day, he sat by the Jedi’s side while he meditated. Off-hand, the General had said it was the only way he found peace. Since then, Cody had made sure to schedule one to two hours for it.

Rex reached for Ahsoka, offering her a hand in support as she wavered.

“He’s in the Temple?” she asked.

“Yes, in detention,” Cody confirmed. “General Kenobi made sure you could see him if you want to.”

“Should I?” she whispered.

Cody shrugged. “It’s up to you. You should talk to the General beforehand, though, to know what to expect.”

“And what should we expect?” Rex asked, including himself without hesitation.

“Pacing. Ranting. Accusations. And a pale lanky shadow of himself with yellow eyes,” Cody described honestly. 

“It can’t be that bad,” Rex said.

“He hurt several of our men before we could stop him, Sir,” Appo stepped in for the first time. “I think… we were lucky he didn’t have his lightsaber.”

Rex and Ahsoka shared a glance and squeezed each other’s hand before letting go.

“I’d like to see Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka decided, straightening and nodding at Cody.

“He’d be happy to see you. He needs every ally he can get. Senator Amidala’s condition… has been more of an impediment than a help.”

“What do you mean?”

“General Skywalker thinks that she’ll die in childbirth. He’s stressing her out. She ended up feeling unwell the last time they spoke, which convinced him that he was right. It’s a vicious circle. By this point, the General and the Senator believe there’s nothing to do until she gives birth and can prove him wrong.”

“Poor Padmé,” Ahsoka murmured. 

oOo 

An hour later, Rex and Cody were letting their Jedi (or ex-Jedi) talk together in privacy. Ahsoka had been visibly upset to enter the Temple, and Obi-Wan, no doubt sensing her presence, had been by her side as soon as they got out of the turbolift. He had drawn her into a hug and then into his quarters. They had a lot to discuss, no doubt, and a lot their troopers could learn, but the two clones needed to have their own conversation. They stayed in the hallway.

“I’m sorry,” Cody started, “for not listening to you about the chip.”

“You know what they say about hindsight,” Rex replied with a shrug. “How bad is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I… removed it,” Rex admitted with a hand gesture to his head. “I don’t… I can’t feel it.”

Cody took a moment to think about it, looking around the large hallway, its high ceiling and luminous, peaceful mood. “It’s like being shoved a ruler down your spine every time a Jedi is in range of sight or hearing, and suddenly all you can think about is their safety and well-being.”

Rex winced and rubbed his cheek. “Fives thought it would force us to kill them.”

“He was right,” Cody replied, meeting his vod’s eyes. “General Koon went to Kamino. He got confirmation. Order sixty-six was meant to be the extermination of all Jedi, not the Traitor. An instructor, Kocho, edited the order after learning about it from Fives.”

Rex breathed in sharply and pressed a hand to his face as he realized how close they had been from… from disaster. And, ultimately, Fives had saved them all. He took a moment to swallow back the lump in his throat and then asked: “How can you be so calm about it?”

“I discharged a few cartridges in our brand new Chancellor-shape target, and then I got a call from Boil saying the General wasn’t eating again, so I had more pressing things to worry about,” Cody explained with the weary and jaded tone of a war-veteran.

A smile stretched Rex’s lips. “Chancellor-shape, uh? Should I make a detour by the 212th’s firing range?” 

Cody shifted to grip his friend’s shoulder. “You’re always welcome, vod, you know that.” 

They shared a smile and then lightly bumped their foreheads together.

“I’m glad you’re here. We need all the help we can get,” Cody murmured.

Rex pulled back to look pointedly at the troopers patrolling in the hallway. He had never seen the Temple so secure. On the way there, he had actually seen troopers fretting over an initiate who had just stumbled. It nearly looked like the kid was comforting the troopers and not the opposite.

“Vod, don’t take it wrong… but I think that chip transformed you all in mother hens.”

“Tookas,” Cody corrected. “Mother tookas.” At Rex’s raised eyebrow, he clarified: “So the General claims. I don’t see the issue.”

Snorting, Rex shook his head and patted his brother’s shoulder. “Let’s hope General Koon and Wolffe get this solved, and soon.”

oOo

The Wolffe pack had taken over Kocho’s apartment while they stayed on Kamino. After their first meeting in her classroom, she had explained that she kept the music on high to thwart the listening devices installed in the facility. Her apartment was the only place she considered safe, and thus ten guys were now taking all the space in her humble abode.

Meili didn’t mind. She was tired of being lonely. 

She was lounging on the couch with her legs on Sinker’s lap and the back of her head resting on Boost’s leg since he sat on the arm of the couch. It was comfortable. She considered her sabacc cards thoughtfully.

“I mean, yeah, you could, and probably should, surgically remove the chip. But, let’s say that this operation — if it’s not too risky, mind you — takes around one hour, more or less, uh? Considering that there’s roughly one medic for one battalion which is to say five hundred and seventy-six troopers. This medic needs to rest, of course, and can only work half of the time, and that’s generous because we’re talking a surgical operation here, so delicate stuff. So one medic can remove, let’s say, at best, six chips by day. So it would take around a hundred days to get aaaall of the army free from that chip, right? I mean, it could be worse, but it’s not exactly fast, if you ask me. Pure sabacc, by the way.”

Groans followed her announcement, and seven troopers sitting on the ground around the low table put down their cards.

“Can’t the medic droids help?” Sinker asked.

“Well, yeah, if you trust Kaminoan-programmed droids around your pretty head, sure.”

Sinker grunted in acknowledgment before showing his own cards. “Pure sabacc too.”

“I’ve taught you too well, padawan,” Meili sighed with a shake of her head.

“You’re the one who taught him sabacc?” Boost asked, leaning forward to glance at their cards.

“The firsts to finish assignments got to play,” Sinker explained.

“Sabacc is good for maths. Maths are good for slicers. Anyone else?” Meili asked as she straightened.

Boost folded too, and neither Wolffe or Plo were playing. Meili activated the tiebreaker and groaned when she got a lower number than Sinker. The trooper smiled in satisfaction. 

“So, what do you suggest?” Plo asked, bringing them back on the subject. He was sitting in the only armchair of the living-room, Wolffe leaning on the back of it.

Meili straightened and rested a folded arm on Boost’s lap. “Well, the thing is, as proven by yours truly, the chip can always be hacked and modified, like any other digital product. It’s difficult, but it can be done. Unless…”

“... You remove the updating ability,” Sinker realized, looking up from his winnings (candies, the currency Kocho always used for sabacc games with clones).

She waved approvingly toward him. “What you want to do is wipe the chip clean and then make it impossible to update it. Thus, you’ll have much fewer risks for it to be hijacked while you remove them all.”

“You can do it?” Plo asked, more by politeness than in real doubt.

“Yeah, of course, but…”

“Yes?”

“To make it impossible to update?” She made a face. “We might need the Kaminoan’s cooperation for that.”

“Oh, great. So it’s kriffed,” Wolffe sighed.

“Now, Commander. I’m sure we can negotiate,” Plo tried to reassure him.

“Good luck with that,” Meili said, gathering all cards. “Call me when it’s done.”

oOo

Three days later, in the control room of the cloning complex, Meili looked up to the prettiest face she had ever seen.

“Hi,” she said cheerfully, “I’m Meili Kocho, nice to meet you!”

The Jedi watched her, curious. “Aayla Secura. The pleasure is mine, Instructor Kocho. I heard what you have done for us.”

“Oh, you know, all in a day’s work,” Meili said, waving a hand in dismissal. She leaned forward with her palms joined. “I need you to know that you’re the prettiest person I have seen since landing on this karking planet. I mean, your colleagues, the Togruta and the red-head human, had this honor for some time, but you’re definitely beating them. I think it’s your skiiii—eep!”

She was dragged away by Sinker who pushed her in Boost’s direction and then saluted Aayla and Bly. “Please forgive her, General. She’s going a bit stir-crazy, I think.”

Bly, who had been ready to push back the Pantoran, relaxed a little but kept a wary eye on the crazy girl. Aayla looked more amused than anything. "It's alright," she assured.

"General, please stop being so indulgent with weird admirers," Bly muttered just for her. Unfortunately, it wasn't the first time something similar had happened.

"She doesn't mean anything wrong by it, Commander. Her intentions are friendly and candid."

"The last time you said that we ended up with a stowaway," Bly sighed.

"Which won't happen since Miss Kocho has received an official invitation on Coruscant from the Council," Aayla pointed out.

"So, more opportunities for her to harass you. Great."

"She won't, Commander. She just needs to see a bit more of the galaxy. You can't blame her for that, can you?"

Bly looked out of the windows, at the morn and redundant seascape which he had been all too happy to leave behind. "Right."

Meanwhile, Meili was ranting as she sat down on the seat Boost pulled for her.

“Twelve years, Sinker! Twelve years during which I have seen a million versions of your face from infancy to adulthood. In this condition, there’s a point when a pretty face just becomes boring. Like, when you eat caviar every day, it just gets boring! I need a little bit of diversity!” 

She turned on the console and three screens popped up around her. 

“No-one forced you to stay on Kamino,” Wolffe pointed out from where he leaned on the wall with his arms crossed.

“Yes, actually, the Hutts did. Hutts are kriffing bastards with long arms — not literally, you know what I mean, wait do we say long reach in basic instead? or is that in Mando'a… Anyway, they can hold a grudge, I’d have you know,” Meili replied, holding up a finger.

“What did you do to them?” Boost asked in morbid fascination.

“I… might have cost them a few thousand slaves… but no-one can prove anything! I maintain it was just a bug! … like a complete malfunction of their ship, you know! … It happens.” Feeling the weight of their combined stares on her back, she raised her chin in defiance. “Whatever. There were kids in there.”

“... You’re a complete bleeding heart, aren’t you?” Wolffe realized with a sigh.

Meili raised an index over her lips. “Hush, don’t tell anyone, I have a reputation!”

Plo Koon stepped in the room, followed by Lama Su and Nala Se. It had taken three days, many holomeetings with the Council and the arrival of Aayla Secura to back up Plo during the negotiations, but they had gotten what they wanted. The Kaminoans had caved to the Council's demand for removing the biochips "now that the war was ending".

Kocho’s role in the changes to order sixty-six was now an open secret, and the long-necks hated her, but she didn’t care at all. She had a new and better job waiting for her in the Core, one where she could see pretty things and people!

Sinker sat on Meili’s left and turned on two more screens for himself. “Ready.”

“Beginning to wipe the biochip code,” Meili announced and got to work. She could vaguely hear the Jedi talk with the Kaminoan, but she had developed the ability to ignore what went around her when she worked (an essential skill for a slicer taking more or less honorable jobs: you had to be able to ignore a (fire)fight in the background).

“Chip wiped. Downloading the sleeper virus.”

The only way to make it impossible to update the chip was to make it double-edged. Anyone who would try would end up tripping a warning code who would inform all clones that they were being ‘hacked’, and then the chip was programmed to send out intense feedback which, multiplied by thousands, would fry any computer before the update could be complete.

“Sinker. We good?”

“All fine, Sir,” the clone confirmed.

“Alright. Forcing the update to go… Countdown to one minute. It will take longer to reach the others, but you’re on ground zero, guys, so it should be instant.”

“What should we expect?” Bly asked.

“I have no idea!” Meili replied cheerfully, throwing him a smile over her shoulder. “I'd guess that you’ll just be back to normal.”

“Great,” Wolffe grumbled. 

All the clones were a bit tense, and both General reached for their Commander to reaffirm their support. They watched the countdown in silence.

When it reached zero, they held their breath. One second later, the clones twitched in subtle ways.

Meili, who was watching Sinker intently, raised an eyebrow and then went to poke his arm. “You good? Not dying on me, are you?”

“No, I… I’m fine.”

“Commander?” Plo and Aayla asked with a similar tone of concern and in synch.

Both Commanders replied comfortingly.

“It just… feels like a weight is removed from my shoulders… and a cloud of my thoughts,” Bly described, rubbing his temple thoughtfully.

“That’s good to hear,” Aayla murmured, squeezing his elbow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad you appreciated Meili, since she had to finish her task and get us rid of that nasty code. :3


	11. Freedom is a constant battle

It was election day. 

The day before, Master Shaak Ti had come to the Senate, surrounded by two squads of Coruscant Guards. Fox had wanted it to be the double, a full platoon, but Master Yoda had eyed him silently until he surrendered (you couldn’t beat the patience of a 900 years old Jedi). She had spoken publicly in front of the Senate, to explain Palpatine’s death and all its ramifications, everything that the Jedi and the troopers had been able to discover about the machinations of Darth Sidious. 

Palpatine's old supporters had been loud in their denial, but the proofs founded had been damning enough that they had to quiet if they didn't want to appear too guilty themselves. They contented themselves with criticizing and attacking the Jedi and the clones behind closed doors afterward. They had started calling themselves the "Faithful", as in faithful to Palpatine and his memory, supposedly sullied by the Jedi.

Shaak Ti had finished her speech thus: “We have been fooled into a war, long and meaningless, who cost us more than we could ever count. None of us were spare. We all have lost too much to let it happen ever again. I urge the Senate to bring us into a time of peace and reconstruction. May our future Chancellor be wise. May the Republic be fair. May the Force be with us.”

Sitting in her pod as the votes of the second round were counted (the first had happened this morning, and they were in the lead! they could win this!), Padmé pressed her palms together and waited with bated breath. Next to her, Dormé slipped a handkerchief out of her sleeve and gently wiped the Senator’s forehead. All of this stress she had to endure couldn’t be good for the babies, Padmé knew, but there was nothing she could do about it. She had to be here. No matter what Anakin thought, she would certainly not desert her post to lay in bed, not in this decisive time, nor would she die in childbirth, of all things. She had handled her pregnancy quite well until now, and she would continue to do so without shirking her duties.

She glanced at another pod on her right and caught Bail’s eyes, who smiled at her with pressed lips. They had all done their best these last days, with little rest between meetings, dinners, and committees. They had agreed on a candidate: Mon Mothma was the best and safest choice since Bail wished to keep time for his family (which he planned to expend by adopting children soon) and was also Consort of the Queen of Alderaan, which many of their enemies would point out to be a conflict of interest for a Chancellor. With the influence of Bail, Padmé, and the whole Delegation of 2000 backing Mon Mothma, they had a good chance.

So much rested on this election: officially signing an armistice with the Separatists and opening negotiations with them to improve relationships, doing the right thing for all the clones and the soldiers who had fought, helping the planets ruined by the war, consolidating the Jedi order… and those were just the most urgent matters. There was the Senate to reform to eradicate corruption and improve equity. There was…

A bell sounded out. All noise stopped, and eyes turned toward the screens which would display the results. Cameras were positioned in front of the two candidates (one from the Delegation of 2000, the other from the Faithful, everyone else had to join a side in the last four hours since the first round, and that was the whole issue: who had joined who). This session was broadcasted live on every major holochannel. 

Names appeared on screens. A moment later, the votes they had gathered were added.

Padmé breathed in sharply and pressed a hand to her chest. She ignored the wall of noise that suddenly rose around her and closed her eyes.

“Senator Mon Mothma is elected Chancellor with 53% of expressed votes,” the Protocol Manager of the Senate announced loudly over the noisy reactions. 

They had done it! 

Padmé stood up, smiled and clapped with the rest of her fellow Senators.

For the first time in months, if not years, she felt victorious and hopeful for the future.

Mon Mothma’s pod rose so she could wave at the crowd. After a moment, she gestured for Bail and Padmé to join her.

Padmé raised her chin, stood tall in her green dress, and lifted an arm to wave at her colleagues.

They would make things right.

She would show Ani that there was still hope, that he could keep faith in the light. She would bring him back. 

oOo

The war had come to a halt over the last week but ultimately waited for a new Chancellor to be elected. Once it was done, things went fast. The Power of Three, as it had started to be called by the press, had planned how they wanted to handle things in advance, and they all knew their role to play in it.

Chancellor Mon Mothma made a public announcement the day after her election to promise an end to the war and a prompt return to peace. She worked on straightening things out in the Senate with long years of experience.

Vice-Chancellor Bail Organa was already on his way to Mustafar to negotiate the surrender and armistice of the Separatists.

Delegate Padmé Amidala met the Kaminoan Senator.

“The Chancellor demands an immediate halt to the production of clones, as well as the concession of your property rights to all of them,” Padmé announced bluntly.

Burtoni leaned back in shock. “Impossible, that would be the ruin of my people!”

“Let’s not fool each other, Senator. If there’s anyone who has benefited from this war, it’s your people. The Republic has paid you billions of credits for the clone army, and you won’t get me to believe that your financial situation could suffer from a decision that was unavoidable and expected,” Padmé replied sharply. “Furthermore, your reputation has never been greater and will be sufficient, no doubt, to garner new clients. Clients who hopefully would be wise enough to wish for lawful products, as the Senate won’t tolerate anymore the violation of Republic laws regarding the rights of sentient beings and the interdiction of their cloning.”

“I understand the cessation of the production,” Burtoni conceded, “but the clones are our products and you can’t ask us to—”

“I can, and I do,” Padmé interrupted. “By respect for your people’s service to the Republic, I advise you to renounce to those rights immediately and without conditions, as any claim to owning the life of a sentient being is akin to slavery, and slavery is outlawed in Republic space. Your refusal would lead to a formal complaint and a consequent lawsuit that none of us wish for.”

Burtoni’s hands curled tightly around the arms of her chair. She tried to plead her case, but she was met with the implacable determination of the righteous.

Padmé was profoundly satisfied to win her case, but that excess of hubris didn’t last for long. A few hours later, she was pleading her next cause to a committee when Dormé stepped up to her side and whispered in her ear. Livid, Padmé gritted her teeth and then whispered back: “Prepare a transport for the Jedi Temple.”

As soon as she could leave, Padmé hurried out of the Rotunda. When she reached the Temple, she noticed that the troopers seemed more relaxed, but she put it down to the news about the end of the war.

“Senator,” a Council aide greeted her when she arrived at the top of the tower. “The Council is in a holomeeting, if you could wait a few moments…”

“Please inform them that I have urgent news to share regarding Kamino and the clones,” Padmé requested.

The aide bowed his head and went to pass the message, leaving Padmé to wait, ignoring the seats available. Dormé watched her like a hawk while she paced.

“The Council will see you now,” the aide called after a moment.

As she walked in, Padmé was surprised to see a few clones with the Councilors. Commanders Fox, Cody and Rex if she wasn’t mistaken. They were standing between the seats of Obi-Wan and Master Yoda. There were also two new members among the chairs of the Council: Master Luminara Unduli and a male Lasat she didn’t remember ever meeting. In the middle of the room, a holoprojection showed Masters Koon and Secura as well as Commander Wolffe.

“Senator Amidala,” Master Yoda greeted her. “Pleased to see you, we are. In order, congratulations are, for Chancellor Mothma’s election.”

Padmé stopped next to the holoprojection and bowed. “Thank you, Master Yoda. We’ll do our best to restore peace and stability to the Republic.”

“Good to hear, this is. But troubled, you are.”

“Unfortunately so, Master, I apologize for interrupting your meeting.” She nodded at Master Koon and Secura.

“We were finishing,” Plo replied.

“The biochip has been successfully wiped,” Obi-Wan explained with a pleased smile. “The clones are free from its influence.”

Padmé blinked at the Commanders and took note of their relaxed stance, realizing how self-centered she had been when trying to guess their reason. “I’m glad to hear it. However, on the matter of the clones, I have mixed news.” 

A sigh came from the holoprojection. From the corner of her eyes, she caught sight of Commander Wolffe rubbing his temple. She couldn’t fault him. It seemed to never end.

“I met Senator Burtoni this morning and successfully negotiated for the cessation of clone production as well as the freedom of the clones from Kaminoans' claim,” she explained with careful words.

“But? I sense a but,” Obi-Wan commented with a tired attempt at humor.

“I was preparing a proposition to the Senate to regularize the clones’ situation by granting them Republic citizenship, as only Republic citizens are supposed to be part of our army, but it would only be voted on in three days. Senator Burtoni must have heard of it because she...” Padmé had to pause and took a breath. She felt a bit too warm. “She demanded that the clones leave Kamino in less than seventy-two hours. Due to their lack of Republic citizenship, she pretends that they’re foreigners illegally present on Kamino. By this logic, the Kaminoan would be in their right to imprison any clones on planet by the end of this delay.”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan sighed, the loudest but not the only one to be visibly annoyed or discouraged by the news. “Never underestimate the ability of a politician to make others’ life miserable when they don’t get what they want.”

“How many clones are currently on Kamino?” the Lasat Master asked.

Plo turned to the side to listen to someone out of the holoprojection. “Fifty thousand,” he answered. 

“I could take no more than five thousand,” Aayla commented as she rubbed her chin in thought.

“Likewise,” Plo agreed.

“I can be on Kamino in less than a day and take two thousand,” Master Tapal offered.

“We need all ships in range to detour by Kamino and help in the evacuation,” Shaak Ti concluded. “Will we have enough?”

“And will they be able to deal with such an influx?” Depa asked, leaning forward. “Most of the clones won’t be mature. Some will still be infants.”

“I’m sure we can find solutions,” Stass Allie said confidently.

oOo

Cody, Rex, and Fox gathered together at the end of the council meeting. They had been reporting to their Generals about the change brought by the chip’s update when Master Koon had called, thus they had been invited to stay. Although they had been warned a few hours before the update, it had still been nerve-wracking to wait for it without knowing what to expect. Now that it had happened, it was a relief difficult to put in words.

“You good?” Rex asked Cody.

“For the fourth time today, Rex, yes, I’m fine,” Cody replied, not unkindly.

“And we were the mother tookas?” Fox quipped with a mocking smile.

“It’s called checking, vod, and yes, you were a whole pack of mother tookas. The Jedi will back me up on that. I heard Initiates worrying about some of your guards’ mental health the other day, so trust me, you can’t be outdone.”

“Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad.”

“Yes, yes, it was.”

“Tch. Look at that de-chipped guy, pretending to be wise,” Fox said to Cody, teasing.

“The long necks might have had a point. He’s getting out of control,” Cody replied with a tilt of his head.

“Bite your tongues,” Rex grumbled, nudging his vode’s shoulders as he passed them by to walk away.

“Oooh, how aggressive!” Fox mocked. “What a temper!”

Rex turned around to walk backward and threw a rude gesture at Fox, provoking his hilarity.

“I’m glad to see you all in a good mood.”

Fox and Cody straightened and spun around to salute Obi-Wan as he came out of the council room. “General,” they greeted him. 

Senator Amidala followed him with her handmaiden helping her to walk. She was pressing a hand under her belly.

“Senator,” Fox spoke up. “Do you require help?”

“If you could escort her to her airspeeder, Commander, please,” Obi-Wan asked.

“Of course, Sir.” He offered his forearm to the Senator, who accepted it without hesitation, which was proof enough that it was needed.

“Will it be long, Sir?” Cody asked softly to his General once the expecting lady was far enough.

“Her term is in two weeks, but with twins and the stress of this last week…” Obi-Wan rubbed his beard with a concerned expression.

“Sooner, then?”

“Most likely, but it should be fine. I convinced her to go see Healer Che the other day. The babies are in good health, and Vokara doesn’t expect any complications. ”

Cody nodded, knowing that Skywalker’s worry had prompted this visit, but he stayed quiet. Obi-Wan turned his attention on him and reached for his forearm.

“How are you, my friend? Do you feel better without the compulsion?”

“Yes, Sir. Less twitchy, I think Rex called it.”

Obi-Wan smiled softly. “I’m glad. Hopefully, we’ll get all of this resolved soon, so your vode may all find peace and a normal life.”

“Yes, Sir,” Cody replied, without expressing all the doubts he had about what a ‘normal life’ was or what they were supposed to do with themselves in peacetime.

One thing at a time. For now, the kids needed to be extracted from Kamino...

oOo

“Oh, come on, I’m not a nanny,” Meili whined as she found herself faced with rows of small faces. 

“Of course not, Instructor Kocho,” Plo Koon replied peacefully.

“I’m a slicer, one of the best!”

“If you agree, you may join Master Secura’s flagship.”

“Okay!” Meili accepted immediately with a cheerful smile. She clapped her hands and entered the fray. “Come on, little bitty sweeties, everyone in squads! Sergeants, get your troopers in lines for transfer! Be quick, and be good!”

Wolffe watched Kocho organize several hundred kids for transport in a matter of seconds and turned a raised eyebrow toward his General. “You have to be weird to be on Kamino, I guess.”

Plo chuckled. “Weird but effective.”

The GAR was used to evacuating large numbers of people in little time. They proceeded with all their usual celerity and efficiency heightened by the docility and discipline of their charges.

In a few hours only, Master Secura’s ships were ready to depart. Soon, they would be replaced by others called in backup. Plo Koon was staying to organize the evacuation. He’d leave last. No-one would be left behind, not even the ‘tubies’, he would make sure of it.

oOo

Bly liked to watch space passed by the window even —or especially— when they were in hyperspace. It helped him empty his mind and think. Think about how to organize the arrival of thousands of new (worse than) shinies and what would happen to them once they reached Coruscant. Think about the war ending and thus the reason for his existence with it… and the reason his General was a General while they were at it…

“Hiii, Commander… Bly? Fly? Ply? Sorry, I’m not sure I registered your name.”

Bly twitched in annoyance and turned around slowly to face the annoying Instructor they were saddled with. Several of his specialists had vouched that she was one of the best and kindest instructors they had got. However, he wasn't fond of the _Cuy'val Dar_ , and he didn’t appreciate the liberties she took with General Secura.

“Bly,” he replied coldly. “What can I do for you, Instructor Kocho?”

Meili looked around the officers’ breakroom and pouted. “No pretty Jedi?”

“General Secura prefers privacy. And you don’t have the authorization to be here,” he pointed out, glaring at the Lieutenant who had let her in.

“She said she needed to speak to you, Sir!” Galle explained as he saluted.

“To the officers in charge,” Meili clarified distractedly, checking everyone present. “I was hoping to speak to the pretty Jedi.”

“You’ll have to do with me.”

“I suppose,” she admitted. When she met his eyes, they were sharp and more intent than Bly had ever seen her. She made a discreet hand gesture, one that clones had been taught by the _Cuy'val Dar_. “Secret.”

“Let’s go to my office,” he offered, pulling away from the window and leading her through the mostly empty hallways.

She stayed silent for most of it, except when they passed by a turbolift opening. Then she pressed forward and leaned against his shoulder. “Say, can I see the pretty Jedi anytime soon? Invite her for a holo, maybe?”

“No!” Bly replied sharply, pulling away and glaring at her sideways.

She pouted. “Are you suuure?!”

“Yes!” Bly was still glaring at her, which allowed him to notice when she glanced over her shoulder once they turned a corner. Her demeanor changed then, into something more relaxed and less invasive.

Once they reached his office and the door closed behind them, Bly went around his desk and frowned at her. “What’s going on?”

There was no seat for guests, but she sat on the corner of his desk without hesitation, crossing both legs and arms.

“I got a proposition from one of your officers. Incognito, mind you, but my contact info is only available to your officers.”

“I don’t want to hear about your private life,” he sighed but without great conviction. He felt like this was a bit more complicated than that.

“Good, because it’s less active than the void,” she snarked back before waving a hand. “Not _that_ kind of proposition. The unlawful kind, darling, keep up.” She paused and tilted her head. “Did I say a few too many times that I was the best slicer Jango Fett had ever met? Probably.”

“Keep up, Instructor,” Bly quipped back. “How unlawful are we talking about?”

She pressed a palm on the desk next to his forearm and leaned close. “The kind where I’m offered a few thousand credits to hack your systems so we can fall out of hyperspace at a certain place?”

Bly tensed from head to toes and met her calm eyes with a sharp look. “Why?”

“Oh, I didn’t get the details, of course, but I know the kind, I can guess.” She tapped his forehead with her free hand. “There are hundreds of itty-bitty tiny versions of you on this ship. Engineered soldiers based on one of the most famous bounty-hunters of his time, without as much of the loyalty to the Republic instilled into the elder ones. How much do you think they can be sold into a slave market? A tip: much more than a few thousand credits.”

Bly’s jaws tightened into a grip so tight he felt like he might break a tooth. He had to breathe in deep to let go enough to say: “This is a flagship of the Republic with a full legion. They think they can win?”

“They aren’t Separatists, darling. They are slavers. They don’t need to win. They just need to fool you long enough to get what they want and run like cowards. For that, of course, a slicer would be a great help. An officer in the right position as well.” 

“Troopers wouldn’t do this.” They were brothers. They might have their differences, sometimes, and tease the shinies, but they would never sell each other to kriffing slavery.

“Which only leaves us with…?”

“Nat-born,” Bly sighed, rubbing his forehead. “... I’m calling the General.”

“Yay!”

oOo

Jedi being who they were… they sprung the trap. 

Of course, they did.

Meili pretended to accept the contract, forcing them to drop out of hyperspace six hours later, at a third of their path to Coruscant and during the night shift. She made it looked like a mechanical issue, thus only the engineers were woken up.

However, on level nine, where the kids were settled, the service hallways were strangely crowded. Meili, crouching on the floor between Galle and Bly’s legs, was staring at a datapad plugged into the ship’s monitoring system. Aayla was in a similar position, but with her eyes closed, her surveillance much wider.

Between the two of them, the two squads lying in wait, and the squadron of starfighters taking off to capture the pirates’ ship, they caught the culprits without any difficulty. Their traitor was Captain Klaw, an officer in navigation, thus perfectly aware of their route. His excuse, as he explained to Aayla, was family debts. He promised to tell her everything and beg for clemency.

It was easy, too easy for the troopers who brim with resentment and anger, but they’d let it out later, in the training room. They were well trained and disciplined.

Meili pushed through the squad, asking: “Sorry, can I have a sec?”

Bly paused with a hand on Klaw’s shoulder, ready to take him to the brig. A few hours ago, he wouldn’t have entertained her request, but she had just saved his little brothers from a fate far worse than what he could imagine.

“I just have a message, real quick,” she started as she reached them. Without any warning sign, she just… kicked Klaw in the groin. 

The officer shouted in pain and bent in half. 

The troopers let out some noises, mix between “oooh” to “ouch”.

Aayla pursed her lips and crossed her arms, but she didn’t sound very upset when she scolded her: “Instructor Kocho, we do not mistreat prisoners!”

“Even when they deserve it?”

“Even then.”

“Oh. I’m glad I didn’t ask for permission, then.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cuy'val Dar = the 100 initial instructors recruited by Jango Fett


	12. A Temple full of youth

Once Klaw and the slavers were in custody, Aayla warned the rest of the Jedi of this new threat to the young clones. 

The news reached Coruscant in the early morning.

Cody was called to his General’s apartment for breakfast, but he knew better than to expect anything else than a work meeting with tea and caf (admittedly, the best caf Cody ever had the pleasure to drink).

“Thank you for joining me, Cody,” Obi-Wan said as he opened the door. “Do you like milk rolls? They’re still warm. An Initiate just brought them to me with my usual order. Apparently, she stress-bakes.”

“I… don’t think I ever ate any, Sir.”

“Truly? Well, now, that’s a shame. Come, come, sit down with me.”

Cody put down his helmet on the couch and joined Obi-Wan at the dinner table. It wasn’t the first time they had been eating here in the last ten days. The General prefered to stay close to the Temple (and Anakin). Cody prefered to stay close to his Jedi (and check his eating habits). It had become somewhat of a habit, even. Unfortunately, their conversation was rarely casual.

Today, the first topic of discussion was Master Secura’s report.

“This is disheartening,” Obi-Wan sighed with a hand around his cup of tea, “and concerning. If the young clones are coveted, even before the public hears about their demobilization, how endangered will they be afterward?”

“A lot,” Cody concluded somberly as he spread jam on this delicious thing that was a ‘milk roll’. “What were your plans for them?”

“We were hoping to find families to adopt them, but in these conditions… it would be difficult to ensure the children’s safety. We’d have to vet the volunteers thoroughly, and this Captain Klaw on Master Secura’s ship proved how difficult it is.”

“So, what’s plan B?”

“Welcoming all of them in the Temple.”

“You have enough space?”

“Space isn’t an issue. At the Golden Age of the Republic, the Temple could hold up to sixty thousand Jedi and collaborators. But that was ages ago. Today, the logistics would be a nightmare. I’m afraid that in trying to protect them, we’d end up neglecting them.”

“Sir, you can’t do much worse than the Kaminoan.”

“That is hardly reassuring, Cody,” Obi-Wan pointed out, throwing him a weary look. “There is also the matter of the mature clones, of course. Once you’re demobilized in turn, where should you all go? We had planned to offer some of you the opportunity to stay with us, if you wished, but _that_ would be spatially impossible with all the young ones here.”

Cody looked up from the second milk roll he was covering in jam. “You want us to stay?”

Obi-Wan threw him a fondly exasperated glance. “We’re hardly going to chase away those of you who can still bear our company after three years of close proximity, as rare as they might be.” He nibbled on his first pastry.

“Did you consider moving the temple?” Cody suggested, raising his spoon. “Somewhere like… a little moon should do it.”

Obi-Wan snorted, but after a moment, he met Cody’s eyes and swallowed his mouthful as he realized: “You’re serious.”

Cody shrugged. “You have to count on at least one million, give or take. And if there’s something we’d appreciate, it’s some extra space.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes drifted out of the window as he thought. “Of course, how silly of me.”

“General?”

“I’m becoming a little too Coruscanti-center, I’m afraid. This temple is hardly the only one we can use. Let’s see. Corellia… well, that would require some negotiations — Corellians are very... independent, shall we say. Ilum is hardly fit for colonization. Lothal would require some logistics, but it would be very promising, the area is mostly deserted but viable and could easily hold thousands…”

Cody watched his General mutter to himself and abandon his breakfast to take notes on a datapad. The Commander sighed, reached for the half-eaten milk roll and lifted it to Obi-Wan’s lips, nudging them. The Jedi opened his mouth to take a bite without looking away from his work.

“You’d love it, Cody, Lothal is a beautiful place,” Obi-Wan commented distractedly after swallowing his food.

The Commander hummed and offered the next bite to his General, knowing perfectly well that he would never live on this planet, no matter how beautiful it could be. Obi-Wan wouldn’t leave Coruscant, thus Cody would stay on Coruscant. He was fine with that. 

“For my retirement, maybe.”

“What do you mean?” 

“You know… It will come fast.”

Pulled out of his thoughts, Obi-Wan glanced at Cody, frowning, before understanding dawned on him and his eyes widened. “Force, I had nearly forgotten! Of course, we have to work on that right away!”

“Sir, I didn’t mean—”

“I read a report during the war about someone working on that fast aging issue,” Obi-Wan muttered to himself, reaching for another datapad. “I didn’t have the time to think much about it then, but I bookmarked it for later. Let me just find it. I think it was one of the _Cuy’val dar_ and his adopted clones…”

“Kal Skirata?”

“Yes, that must be it. You know him?”

“Yeah, he was… one of the good ones.”

Obi-Wan paused in his search for the right datapad to glance at Cody with a bit of sadness which transformed into renewed determination before the Commander could say anything.

“Sir,” Cody sighed, resigned, “could you finish your breakfast, at least?” 

oOo

Three days later, the 327th’s ships reached Coruscant without any other incidents. 

The young clones were gathered in the hangars, ready for transfer to the Temple. In the flagship, Master Secura was taking charge of the starboard hangar. Bly was overseeing the other. The first ships with the older clones (around 6 to 8 in standard years) were already departing. They had decided to let them go first so that the youngest ones could take example on the oldest once they were on the ground.

The youngest they had on board, between 4 to 6 standard years, stepped into the hangar behind Instructor Kocho in two very long lines. 

“I feel like I’m followed by ducklings,” Kocho muttered as she stopped by Bly so he could point her to their transports.

The Commander smirked at her. He had now spent enough time with her to guess that Kocho was all bark and no bite. She liked to tease, joke, complain and whine, but she was reliable and did her job without fail. She had spent most of the trip entertaining the kids and helping to maintain some of their routines so they didn’t get too anxious or restless. 

Her ‘lessons’ mixed endurance, gymnastics, parkour, dance, music, problem solving and mental arithmetic in joyous organized anarchy. They had attracted a large public of troopers who found her methods absolutely hilarious and regretted that they hadn’t been good enough in maths to end up in her specialized course. Kocho had called them down and put to contribution those brave enough to volunteer. It had entertained more than the kids. Aayla had even shown up, to the delight of everyone.

Bly was now acutely aware that he should never trust some of his men for basic calculations. 

“Hey,” Meili called him, taking a step to the side and gesturing for the kids in the lead to continue. “Anything I should know about the Temple and Coruscant?” 

“What do you mean?”

“You know, stuff I shouldn’t do or say, that sort of thing… I never went to Coruscant, to be honest, but I heard they’re prickly down there, and that was twelve years ago, before that whole war business,” she babbled.

Bly blinked at her, surprised to see her… worried? 

She pretended to focus on the kids passing them by, glanced at him and then shook her head at his baffled expression. “Nevermind. I’ll do as usual, it never was a problem before.”

“Never?” he asked skeptically.

“Well, it never killed me, did it?” she amended with a shrug as she walked away backward. 

“Which is a miracle in itself!”

She laughed and went to find her way back at the head of the line. 

oOo

“I’m told by Bly that this is perfectly normal,” Cody told his General with a straight face.

Obi-Wan wasn’t as good at hiding his amusement, and he chuckled while rubbing his beard. 

They had come to check on the young clones gathered in a reception hall while Crèche Masters directed squad after squad (also called batches at their age) to their new dormitories.

Obi-Wan hadn’t known what to expect between rows of clones waiting at attention or a mess of bored children. Instead, he was now admiring rows of clones sitting cross-legged, playing hand games and reciting arithmetic tables. Except that when they reached tens, for some reason, they rolled on their backs, kicked their feet up and then rolled back in position. So every minute, there were hundreds of kids imitating upturned turtles in perfect synchronization. It was… positively delightful.

“Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle! Yeah, that’s it! And up!” An enthusiastic Pantoran was cheering. “That’s my boys! Table of nine, now! You’re doing great!”

Obi-Wan approached her carefully. “Instructor Kocho, if I may?”

“Hey! Pretty redhead Jedi! Hi!” Meili beamed at him without faltering in her clapping that set the rhythm for the kids.

“General or Master Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Cody rectified calmly. He had been briefed on that too. “I’m Commander Cody.” 

“Gotcha. What can I do for ya?”

“I’d like to talk to you about Kal Skirata, if you—”

“The old man?! Damn, I haven’t heard about him since the beginning of the war. Is he still alive?”

“Yes. We’re trying to contact him, but we could use some help.”

“Yeah, I bet. He’s absolutely terrible at picking up a comlink. Like, the _worst_. Ok, give me a moment.” She clapped her hands again and called: “Okay, kiddos, I need to leave a sec. Do the snake for me, alright?”

Obi-Wan watched in fascination as the clones lied down and shifted in positions that transformed their organized rows in an endless… snake, apparently. “If I may, what is the purpose of this?”

“After what I made them do, give them two minutes and half of them will be asleep. They use each other’s stomach as pillows. It’s super cute,” she explained. “So, you got Skirata’s com contact?”

“Yes, and I’m told he’s still on Coruscant, but I didn’t hear back from him.”

“Gimme,” she asked with an open palm and wiggly fingers. “Getting him to answer when you aren’t from his clan or a client is an art. I’ll show you.”

Obi-Wan handed over his comlink, curious.

She called and raised it to her lips. When she reached voicemail, she sang out: “Heeey, old man! I heard you aren’t dead! Congrats! You’re still terrible at picking your damn com, though, shame on you. How are the kids? Did you collect more? I bet you did.” She hung up and looked up at Jedi and Commander. “Why do you need him by the way?”

“I believe that he took great interest in healing the clones from their fast aging. I’m hoping he’d share his findings with us so we can help all clones.”

“Oh, that would be pretty cool. Ok.” She called Skirata again. “By the way, did I tell you I’m on Coruscant? I finally left that wet rock, yay! Scuttlebutt says you’re here too. Since you’re making me wait, drinks are on you!” She hung up.

Cody raised an eyebrow. “Is your strategy to… annoy him into replying?”

“Yes! Works like a charm! _If_ you do it right,” she explained with a shrug. She called once again. “Also, I’m standing with a Jedi right here, who’s asking if you could help him to cure the clones of that fast aging issue you used to rant about, remember? And, I’m a duck mother now. I have a battalion of ducklings that follow everything I say and nearly got sold into slavery by assholes, Kal. What the kriff, right?” 

She turned toward the children and made a “go to sleep” gesture to those who were watching her. Once they had closed her eyes, she called again and whispered: “Kal, they’re too cute. You have to save my ducklings from premature old age.”

Cody took a step back and rubbed the bridge of his nose, torn between recording this for his vode and posterity or completely obliterating it from his memory. Obi-Wan was grinning in delight. This was the kind of negotiations he wished he could get away with.

At the seventh call, while Meili got ready to monologue again, she was interrupted harshly:

“Kocho. Damn it, you crazy girl, who let you out?”

She squealed in delight. “Skirata! Old man! You're alive!”

“Yeah, yeah. Pass me the Jedi.”

“I missed you too!” She handed over the commlink to Obi-Wan, made a V sign and left to check on her… ducklings.

“ _Su cuy'gar_ , Commander Skirata. This is General Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“Kenobi. Good luck dealing with that girl. The only one she ever listened to was Fett.”

“I’m sure motherhood will help her channel her energy.”

“What’s this bull about ducklings?”

“Instructor Kocho is helping us handle young clones evacuated from Kamino.”

“Evacuated. Why?”

“That’s a complex story best left untold on a communication channel. If you could stop by the Temple, we could—”

“I’ll be there tomorrow. 3pm,” Skirata stated before hanging up.

Obi-Wan stared at his comlink. “Charming.”

“That’s him, alright,” Cody confirmed, but he was pulling out his own beeping comlink. “Commander Cody.”

“Cody, is Master Kenobi with you?" Ahsoka asked.

“Yes, what is it?”

“It’s Padmé. She’s going into labor.”

“Oh, dear,” Obi-Wan murmured.

oOo

Padmé was visiting Anakin with Ahsoka when her waters broke. She had thankfully managed to hide it from her husband, too busy bickering with his ex-padawan, and had stepped out of the room. Rex had carried her to the Halls of Healing.

“She was pretty pissed,” Rex commented. Cody and he had chosen to stay out of the delivery room to guard the door.

“About?”

“The vote for our citizenship has been delayed to tomorrow. She won’t be able to vote. Her handmaiden told her Representative Binks could handle it. She was not reassured.”

Cody snorted. “Considering last time she left him alone in the Senate, he offered emergency powers to Palpatine… I get it.”

Rex tilted his head in agreement. “Do you think it will pass?”

“Do I look like I can read politicians’ thoughts, vod?” 

Even Obi-Wan knew better than to try to predict the result of a vote in the Senate. It had given him more than a few grey hairs in the past. He had been extremely relieved when Mon Mothma had been elected, but he knew better than to think the Senate would radically change in so little time. It was still unpredictable and self-serving above all else.

Rex chuckled and nodded. “Fair enough. You got news from Kamino?”

“Master Koon finished the evacuation on time. They are on their way. The last ones should arrive in two to three days.”

“The Temple’s gonna be packed.”

“General Kenobi insists that it’s a delight to see the halls filled with young ones.”

“That bad, uh?”

Before Cody could explain how thoroughly depressed his General had been each time he walked into the Temple to find it emptier and emptier throughout the war, the door to the delivery room opened and Senator Amidala’s scream of frustration came through. 

The padawan healer who came out took a glance at their spooked expressions and commented kindly: “It’s okay if you want to leave, she’s safe here, and it always takes a while for the first time.”

They didn’t need to be told twice. 

“Of course. I should go organize the cadets’ dormitories,” Cody commented.

“I’ll help,” Rex volunteered. Once they were out of the Halls of Healing, he muttered: “Kriff. Natural birth, vod...”

“I know.” 

Worried at the lack of news, they come back thirteen hours later, around eleven at night. They were directed by the healer on duty toward a bedroom, which they took as a good sign. Inside, they found a sleeping Padmé on the bed. Ahsoka was sprawled on two chairs, sleeping as well. Obi-Wan stood over a large cradle, thoughtful. He looked up at their arrival, smiled and gestured for them to come forward. 

“Let me introduce Luke and Leia Naberrie-Skywalker,” he whispered tenderly. 

The clones leaned over, curious and reverent. The only babies they had ever seen were those they had to evacuate, and they were thankfully rarely that young. To their eyes, the twins looked very similar to each other, except that one already had some dark hair when the other had none.

“Who is who?” Rex asked.

“Leia has her mother’s hair,” Obi-Wan commented before whispering with a teasing smile: “Hopefully, they both have her personality too.”

The clones snorted in agreement, but they better understood the Jedi’s comment when he added softly: “They are both strong in the Force.”

“You can already feel that?” Cody wondered.

“They’re bright, maybe not as much as Anakin individually, but together… they shine. Force-sensitive twins always make each other stronger. Their bond is something unique, even for Jedi.” He caressed Luke’s cheek who looked peaceful in his sleep. “I… am not sure we should introduce them to Anakin. The dark side is something terrible to experience for Force-sensitive, and they have no shields.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “No, we can’t.”

“He won’t like that,” Rex murmured.

“I know,” Obi-Wan sighed, bowing his head and pushing his hands in his sleeves. “Let’s hope that seeing Padmé in good health will be enough to calm the worst of his temper. If we promise to let him see the children as soon as he can control himself, maybe… no, he would see this as coercion. Force.” He closed his eyes, his weariness showing more than ever.

“You need to sleep, Sir,” Cody reminded him, reaching for his elbow. “One thing at a time, right?”

“Right,” Obi-Wan agreed, smiling at the sleeping infants. “I should rejoice about what we have and not whine about what we don’t.” He looked around the room. “I’ll see if I can find some pillows…”

Cody let out an exasperated sound. “You’re _not_ sleeping here!”

“But…”

“Ahsoka will recover faster from backache than you will,” Rex pointed out with a cheeky smile.

Obi-Wan huffed and crossed his arms. “No need to call me old, Commander.”

“You’re the one who complained about some of the places we had to sleep on, Sir,” Cody pointed out. “Are you really volunteering to sleep on the ground when your bed is just a few floors away?”

“When you put it like that… Very well, you win.”

“I’ll add it to the tally, Sir.”

“Very funny... Wait. Do you really keep count?!”

“And you’re losing, Sir.” 


	13. Armistice and long life for all

The next day, Cody awoke at seven o’clock. No invitation for breakfast was waiting for him. He took it as a sign that Obi-Wan was still sleeping, for once (he better be). So he went to eat at the barracks’ refectory with Rex, speaking together of everything they had to do to organize the Temple for the cadets.

They were in the middle of their meal when loudspeakers turned on:

“Your attention, please. This is a message from General Shaak Ti.”

The room quieted, and they paused expectantly.

“Troopers, it is my greatest pleasure to inform you that last night, the armistice was officially signed by Vice-Chancellor Organa and the Separatist leaders.”

Whoops and whistles of victory sounded out, but most of them continued to listen. This was great news but not surprising, they had been waiting for it since the ceasefire.

“The Separatist Droid Army has been deactivated and is in the process of being disassembled. Most of our forces are called back to Coruscant for demobilization. This process will still take weeks to finalize, and we’re all acutely aware of the many questions left to solve regarding your future. Rest assured that the Jedi Order is and will always be by your side, as you were during these three long years. We are determined to help you in peace as you helped us in war. You won’t be alone.”

Cody caught sight of a few brothers relaxing or looking down to hide their emotions. Whispers had spread through the ranks lately, wonders of what would happen to them and what the Jedi would do. Many needed that reassurance.

“As uncertain as the future is, it’s important to appreciate an achievement such as the return of peace and to enjoy this moment as much as we can. As such, the Jedi Order cordially invites every off-duty member of the GAR to join us for a celebration party tonight on the Processional Way from 6pm to midnight.”

The whoops of joy were much louder this time, covering most of Shaak Ti’s parting words. Rex and Cody shared a smile but couldn’t say a word before members of the 212th and 501st found them and pulled them into a cheerful huddle.

“Do you think General Kenobi will be there?” Wooley asked.

“I don’t doubt it,” Cody replied confidently. “You know how much he likes seeing you all make fools of yourself.” 

No-one asked if General Skywalker would join them. While all troopers knew what had happened to him (scuttlebutt went fast, especially between their two corps), none talked about it publicly. Even with their chips inactive, it was an implicit taboo.

Rex and Cody left for the Temple soon after breakfast and directly went to the Halls of Healing. However, before they could reach Senator Amidala’s room, Cody was hailed.

“Helix. I thought you were on the Negotiator,” Cody commented as he faced the head medic of the 212th.

“I came to talk with the Healers about the removal of the chips,” Helix explained. “We’re planning to start tomorrow. I wanted to ask when you’d prefer to go through with it?”

“As soon as possible.”

“Alright, then. How does nine in the morning tomorrow sound?”

“Perfect. Here or on the Negotiator?”

“Here. We’ll start with a Jedi Healer overview and if the first day goes well, we’ll move to the Negotiator.”

“How long will it take?”

“If all goes as planned, an hour, and then we'll let you go sometime in the afternoon.”

“Understood. Keep me updated. Will you go to the party tonight?”

“You bet. I won’t be able to indulge much, but I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Oh, and no drinking alcohol after midnight for you!”

"Understood." Cody smiled, clapped Helix’s shoulder, and went to join Rex patiently waiting for him.

“How did your operation go?” he asked with curiosity. They had never taken the time to talk about it.

Rex shrugged. “No trouble. A raging headache afterward for two days, but nothing painkillers couldn’t deal with… more or less. I’ve been told I was in a foul mood, but then it wasn’t a really good time as a whole.”

Cody made a face. “Two days?” He couldn’t afford to be out of commission for two days. There was still too much to do.

“With the Jedi Healers and Helix working together, you might get by better than me. I only had a medic droid to deal with it.”

“Let’s hope so.”

They reached the Senator’s room and knocked on the door. Ahsoka invited them to enter. She was sitting on the corner of the bed with a hairy baby in her arms. Padmé was nursing the other, Luke, under the sheets, watching him with such fondness that the Commanders felt like they were intruding. She looked up at them and smiled, reassuring them enough to step inside.

“Senator, we just wanted to offer our congratulations and check that everything was alright,” Cody explained respectfully.

“Thank you, Commander. The twins and I are well,” Padmé replied. “Everything went as planned.”

“That’s good to hear,” Rex said.

“Come here,” Ahsoka encouraged them. “You can touch them, you know.”

“Uh, we’re fine. We saw them yesterday evening when you were sleeping. General Kenobi introduced us,” Cody explained, a bit wary of touching the fragile natural infants. 

As if summoned by his name, Obi-Wan walked in. He looked so excited that for a moment Cody feared he hadn’t slept at all and was running on fumes.

“I know!” he exclaimed, passing by the Commanders and going for Padmé immediately.

“Master?” Ahsoka questioned warily.

“How to introduce them to Anakin! Cody was right yesterday —oh, good morning, by the way, Commanders. I was too tired to think. Silly me, of course, we can show them to Anakin, we only have to shield them!”

“You can do that?” Padmé asked hopefully.

“It’s a bit delicate but entirely doable. However, as long as he is… struggling, we can let him touch them.”

“I’m sure he’d already be so happy to see them. That would be wonderful,” Padmé replied with a large smile. She glanced at her children, and her smile weakened in worry. “But we should probably wait a little.”

“Yes, of course,” Obi-Wan agreed, resting a supportive hand on her shoulder. “The three of you need to rest first. Just know it’s possible.”

“It’s a relief. Thank you, Obi-Wan.”

“My pleasure. I have to go and help organize tonight’s party. Do you need anything?”

“No, thank you. Dormé will arrive soon.”

“Then we shall leave you some space and quiet. I’ll come back later. Don’t hesitate to com me for anything.”

Rex and Cody left with Obi-Wan. Once out of the Halls of Healing, the Jedi turned around and smiled at them. He looked in a much better spirit than the day before.

“Will you come to tonight’s party?”

“Of course, Sir,” they replied in tandem. 

“Wonderful. May I recruit you to help with the organization then? I won’t be able to help this afternoon while meeting Skirata, so I want to get as much done as possible before then.”

“On your six, Sir,” Cody replied.

Obi-Wan led them toward the Supplies Office on the other side of the Temple. On the way, they passed by a large group of 6-years-old clones waiting in the hall outside a training room. They turned toward Obi-Wan like a sunflower to the sun. 

“Good morning,” he greeted them with a kind smile.

“Good morning, Sir! May the peace be with you!” they replied in near-perfect unison.

“And with you,” Obi-Wan replied without a thought. It took him two steps to notice the discrepancy and stop with a surprised expression. 

Cody raised an eyebrow and went to inform the closest cadets of their mistake.

“Don’t,” someone interrupted him. “They know. They’re just being little smart-asses.” Meili Kocho walked up to them with an exasperated expression.

“Instructor Kocho?” 

“It was a slip of the tongue, okay?” she told them before raising her voice to shout at the kids: “And you know it perfectly well, ya bunch of parrots!”

The children only smiled and giggled in answer.

Meili sighed and threw her head back to stare at the ceiling. “I knew it would come, the time when they wouldn’t be afraid of me anymore, but how short-lived it was. Ah, how I miss you, perfectly obedient ducklings.”

A Crèche Master, followed by his Clan of Jedi younglings leaving the training room, reached their side and explained to Obi-Wan: “Instructor Kocho made a small mistake this morning, after the announcement about the peace treaty. Her charges have been very fond of repeating this greeting since.”

“I’m not used to this Force greeting thing, okay?” Meili said in her defense, pouting.

“I quite like it,” Obi-Wan commented, smiling. “It’s perfectly appropriate and quite charming.”

“No, don’t say that! They won’t ever stop, now,” Meili whined, gesturing toward those who were smiling proudly. 

“I don’t see the issue.”

“Oh, you don’t, uh?” She wiggled a finger in his direction. “I’m into you, pretty redhead. You’re a troll, aren’t you? You like to leave poor Instructors to be harassed by their smartasses pupils, don't you?”

“I’m sure you can handle it as exemplarily as you did the rest.”

“Okay, compliments will get you everywhere, true, but still…” She made shooing gestures with both hands. “Get out of here. I have a lesson to give.”

“By all means. Far from me the thought to keep a youngling from his education,” Obi-Wan replied, bowing, and leaving with a cheeky smile.

For the rest of the day, he greeted everyone, including the other members of the Council, with the quickly spreading “May the peace be with you.”

oOo

At 3pm, as promised, Kal Skirata arrived at the Temple. He was accompanied by two clones, part of the first batch successfully created by the Kaminoan, called the Nulls. Too independent to be considered viable soldiers, they would have been decommissioned if Kal hadn’t adopted them. 

Obi-Wan understood that communication might be difficult considering their past, but he welcomed them with a charming smile and his usual calm: “ _ Su cuy'gar,  _ Commander Skirata. Thank you for joining us.” 

Skirata's reply was short and curt with a simple nod of greeting. He was observing his surroundings intently. 

It had been a very long time since a Mandalorian had had the opportunity to visit the Jedi Temple, but for once, they had a common goal.

Obi-Wan glanced at the two clones standing in their full armor and smiled at them. “I don’t think we ever had the pleasure to meet. I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“We know,” one replied before adding as an afterthought: “Captain Ordo Skirata.”

The other raised a hand in greeting. “Lieutenant Mereel Skirata.”

“A pleasure to meet you both. May I introduce Commander Cody?”

Cody wasn’t wearing his helmet, as he often did in the Temple. He watched the newcomers warily but silently and nodded in greeting, receiving the same courtesy from his vode. Skirata focused on him, squinting at his armor.

“Marshall Commander. You’re one of the oldest batches. I trained you.”

“Yes, Sir,” Cody confirmed.

Skirata hummed and then eyed Kenobi. “So you want to stop their fast aging. I didn’t think the Jedi would care.”

Obi-Wan maintained a diplomatic smile, used to much worse slight. “I assure you, we do. Should we go discuss this comfortably? Please, follow me.”

Cody already knew what meeting room they were supposed to use, and he noticed that they weren’t taking a direct path to it. Obi-Wan kept an easy conversation going, especially with the Nulls, but Cody didn’t understand the point of their detour until he caught sight of cadets in the hallway.

The kids had become a recurring sight in little time. Three other ships had arrived from Kamino this morning and, with them, three thousand cadets more to add to the five thousand of the previous day. They moved by groups of a hundred, following their improvised Crèchemasters (instructors like Kocho, who had agreed to help, but also Jedi or even senior clones who had volunteered) to the rooms who could contain them all for their different lessons. Thus, they were hard to miss.

“OLD MAN!”

The scream tipped Cody off to Obi-Wan’s intentions. 

Meili ran ahead of her group with her arms up, beaming.

“Crazy girl,” Skirata sighed but didn’t try to avoid her as she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. He patted her back a few times before pointedly stopping. Cody noticed that they were nearly the same height. Kal Skirata was short.

Meili pulled back and turned toward the two Nulls expectantly. “Boys! Long time no see! Which one are you two? Take off those helmets, silly. You changed your armors since last time, and it’s already hard enough to distinguish you!”

They complied and gave their names without complaints.

Meili immediately went to hug Mereel, who hugged her back with one arm. “Hi, sweetie! Ate any good candy lately?”

“You bet.”

“That’s my boy! I raised you well!” She ignored Kal’s pointed grunt, turned toward Ordo, and offered him an open palm. He high-fived her. “How you doing?”

“Good. Got married a few weeks ago.”

“Neat! Congrats, darling!” She offered a fist this time, and he bumped it with his. “How is my boy, Jaing? Doing his teacher proud, I hope?”

“Still your best student,” Kal replied noncommittally.

“Excellent! It’s so cool to see you, guys! Come, meet my ducklings!”

Her students had stopped a few steps away, watching the conversation and especially their elder brothers curiously. 

“Kiddos! This is one the  _ Cuy’val dar _ , Kal Skirata, and his adopted sons, your brothers, Mereel and Ordo! Say hi!”

A mix of “hi” and “may the peace be with you” sounded out.

“No, no, ducklings. For the Jedi, ok, but you can’t say that to a Mandalorian,” Meili sighed, spreading her arms in exasperation. She threw a glance toward Obi-Wan, conveying a silent ‘this is your fault’.

“... May the peace not be with you?” a boy at the front tried out.

Mereel snorted and then frankly laughed, leaning on his brother who smirked.

Kal smiled lopsidedly with his arms crossed. “Really, Kocho? What are you teaching them?”

“What? It’s excellent grammar.” She leaned down to pull on the kid's white T-shirt. Each one of them wore one with colorful personalized inscriptions on the front and back. This one was ‘Ken’. “Very well done, Ken. You’ll have to put more colors on your name, honey, I can’t read it from afar. We need it to pop, alright?” 

He beamed at her in pride and nodded in agreement.

Meili elbowed Kal and pointed at a patient Obi-Wan and Cody with her chin. “Why don’t you be helpful and make sure my ducklings can be young and sassy for a long while, uh?”

The conversation went much more smoothly after Meili had loosened up the Skirata, and Cody admired once again his General’s sense of unconventional negotiations.

The Skirata had no problem admitting that they had indeed stop the Nulls' fast aging process. Mereel had studied genetics for this exact purpose. They were quite proud of it, and they didn’t ask anything in exchange for the knowledge. They shared details so technical that Obi-Wan, despite his best effort to follow, soon had to cave and call both Helix and Healer Che. 

Cody, being well over his head over the medical details, leaned back in his seat and watched his General’s happy expression, knowing that one thing going his way meant much more to him than the Skirata could ever know.

The Commander didn’t have much of an opinion on the issue. Sure, it was nice to know that his vode would have the opportunity to live longer, a full human life (minus those years they had already lost in their childhood). However, to be honest, he had never really thought of what he could do with it as he had always expected to die during this war. Now that he had a future in reach, he wouldn’t know what to do with it. He had always lived from day to day, and he didn’t see a reason to change, for now.

“Lad.”

Cody blinked and glanced to his left. Kal Skirata had also pulled away from the conversation to let his sons handle the details, and he was watching him thoughtfully.

“What do you plan to do once you’re demilitarized?”

“Help the Jedi however they need,” Cody replied without hesitation.

It didn’t seem to be the answer Kal was looking for. He frowned at him. “You could do whatever you want.”

“So the General told me,” Cody agreed.

Kal straightened in his seat and leaned closer with an elbow on his armrest. “You could travel.”

“I didn’t spend more than a month at a time in the same place since the start of the war, and the GAR tour passed by dozens of planets,” Cody pointed out. 

“The GAR tour?”

“A 212th joke.”

Kal hummed and glanced at Obi-Wan. “I know Kenobi has got your loyalty, but this is your life. You were robbed of the opportunity to do whatever you want to do with it, don’t you want to try something else?” 

“Some vode do, and I hope they will find whatever they’re looking for. But  _ you  _ taught me that nothing was stronger than the ties of a clan, that no purpose was greater than taking care of your people. I found mine. Why would I want to leave it, to leave  _ them _ ?”

Kal pulled back with a slight widening of his eyes before the corner of his lips tilted up. “I see. My mistake. I didn’t mean to come between you and yours.”

“You couldn’t, even if you tried, Sir,” Cody replied calmly. He looked back to his General and met his eyes. He had heard everything. Cody pretended not to see the slight wobbling of his lips under the beard. His Obi-Wan was a private man, and a silly one, sometimes.

oOo

The meeting lasted for nearly three hours. They left the meeting room just in time for the beginning of the celebrations, and Obi-Wan invited the Skirata to join them. It was proof of Kal Skirata’s change of mind toward Obi-Wan when, instead of refusing, he called his other sons to inform them they were welcomed to the party. 

“By the way, Sir,” Cody started as they took a turbolift, “what about the vote on our citizenship?”

“It was pushed back,” Obi-Wan replied. “The Senate has organized their own celebrations. Every vote planned for today was canceled.”

“Again?”

“Yes. I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or not. Padmé was relieved, since she’s hoping to be able to speak before the vote. However, it also leaves more time for your detractors to find counter-arguments.”

“Just shoot them all,” Kal Skirata sighed with a roll of his eyes.

“Tempting, I know, but no,” Obi-Wan replied dryly. 

“Blackmail?” 

Obi-Wan went to refuse automatically, but he paused and glanced at Kal curiously. “Do you have blackmail material?”

He smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“No, no, I wouldn’t,” Obi-Wan denied with a shake of his head, watching the floors move past the transparent walls as they went down. “However... did you ever hear of Pola Fertii? She’s an investigative reporter. Very effective lady. She bears a grudge against corrupt politicians —her homeworld wasn't lucky in that regard.”

“Is that so? I’ll have to keep it in mind.” 

The turbolift’s door opened, and they stepped into the reception hall where dozens of Jedi were gathering around the Council.

“If you’d excuse me,” Obi-Wan said to them before taking his leave, his eyes drifting on Cody in a silent promise to see him again soon.

“So, introduce us to the rest of your clan, lad,” Kal Skirata suggested.

“This way, Sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The GAR tour - a 212th joke" is a reference to my one-shot ["The GAR galactic tour"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23215849).


	14. Enjoy the party while you can

The celebrations started with a few words from each member of the Jedi Council. Even those away from Coruscant had sent a message, and they were broadcast to the whole army. They were short, optimistic, and grateful, a remembrance of the sacrifices of the war and a promise for the future all at once.

After that… it was just food, drinks, and good company.

Tables had been set on each side of the Processional Way, offering a buffet with a large variety (larger than some clones had ever seen), and leaving the middle for people to mingle. At first, the crowd was young and good-natured. Initiates and cadets could be seen wandering around, laughing, and eating among the troopers and Jedi who indulge them with smiles.

At 8pm, the youngest had all been herded back inside the Temple, their curfew in effect. The troopers who had been on afternoon duty started to arrive, and the most potent drinks were brought out.

“I have to admit, Kenobi,” Kal Skirata said as one of his sons handed him a glass. “I had my doubts about your party, but you’re delivering. Is that old Corellian brandy? I thought you didn't have the means to buy that kind of things.”

“We don’t,” Obi-Wan confirmed with a smile. “Every expensive bottle you can find was part of our presents’ stock. They were gifts offered to Jedi over the years. As we aren’t known to indulge, they were gathering dust, so we thought this was the right moment to share.”

A whoop of joy sounded out behind them and Meili crashed into two Skirata with an arm around the neck of each. “I just found some Pantoran marsh-syrup! I haven’t had any in, like, at least fifteen years! Guys, Jedi's parties are my new favorite kind of party!” She waved excitedly with a whole bottle in one hand.

“Shouldn’t you be with your ducklings?” Mereel asked.

“It’s their sleepy time! The nanny-droid keeps an eye on them.”

“You trust a droid with your kids?”

“After upgrading it with half a dozen bodyguarding programs, yeah, sure… I can also watch through its eyes on a datapad. Wanna see?" She started to pat her jacket before noticing someone in the crowd. "Is that my boy, Jaing? Jaing, sweetie! Tell me everything! What did you hack lately?”

The latest Skirata brother to join the gathering smirked at Meili before getting an armful of her. “That’s classified, Ma’am. Can’t tell ya.”

She hugged him tightly and then hung from his neck to whine: “Oh, come on! Let me live vicariously. I was stuck on Kamino for twelve years, Jaing. Have you no pity for your old instructor?”

"None," he replied before laughing at her face. "Fine, but not in front of a Jedi."

Obi-Wan raised his hands. "That's my cue to leave. Enjoy yourself. And if Coruscant Guards ask me, I don't know anything."

"That's the spirit, Kenobi," Kal Skirata approved with a smirk.

Obi-Wan made his way toward the bar where Cody had disappeared to a few minutes ago. Looking for him through the Force, he diverted his path to catch his Commander. Cody smiled and handed over a glass. 

“Thank you. Did you see Lieutenant Tsix? I thought I caught sight of her feathers near the buffet. I know how she dislikes crowds...”

“I did. Wooley is with her. He’s probably the one who dragged her here. She’ll be fine.”

Obi-Wan nodded in agreement, trusting his subordinates to look out for each other, vod or not. He sipped his wine and blinked as he realized it was one of his favorite, white Aldeeranian. He smiled at Cody fondly. “Regarding what you said to Skirata this afternoon.”

Cody raised an eyebrow. “Sir?”

Obi-Wan hesitated before saying: “If you truly consider me _aliit_ , I have to insist that you call me Obi-Wan in private.”

“As you wish, Obi-Wan,” Cody agreed easily.

Any other comment the Jedi could have said was interrupted by Aayla Secura walking up to them with Bly. They had seen each other several times since the 327th had reached Coruscant, but they had little time to truly talk casually. Obi-Wan had offered his condolences for Kit's death, Aayla had expressed her sympathy for his padawan's Fall, and that was it. The end of the war left them with as little time to process their trauma as the rest of it.

“Obi-Wan, do you have a minute?” Aayla asked. 

“Of course, what is it?”

“Bly and I were discussing what he could do once demobilized. He insists he wants to continue to help the Jedi, but I—” Aayla paused, surprised by Obi-Wan’s candid laughter and Cody’s smirk. 

“I’m afraid you have come to the wrong person if you were hoping I could convince your Commander, my dear,” Obi-Wan said. “I just lost this exact battle to Cody.”

Bly threw a startled look at Cody who was standing confidently, with the calm and pride of the victorious.

“Really?” Aayla asked, confused, “but don’t you think they should live their own life?”

“I do, indeed, but I have been led to understand that some of them would feel happier by our side. In the end, I’m sure they’ll see the error of their way soon enough and change their mind—”

“Not a chance,” Cody commented. Bly was shaking his head.

“— but until then, I personally don’t have the heart nor the will to turn them away.”

Aayla crossed her arms and ignored Bly’s pointed look. “I’d feel better if they had a taste of what they missed before making that decision.”

“While I understand, that is hardly our decision to make, is it? We have to give them the choice of their future, and if their choice is made, it isn’t our place to try and change their mind.”

“I see your point.”

“And they’ll have all the time to change their mind and try something else later. There’s a cure to the fast aging you see, I’m told it could be offered to all clones in less than a month.”

Aayla lit up in joy. “Truly? That’s wonderful news!” She looked up to Bly in delight, and he shared her smile fondly.

“Will you let me be, then?” he asked.

She shrugged. “As Obi-Wan said, you’ll change your mind soon enough.”

“As Cody said: not a chance.”

Obi-Wan leaned closer to his Commander and whispered: “Why do I feel like this is only the beginning of a widespread argument?”

Cody sipped his glass of beer with a self-satisfied smile. He had another point to add on his tally of arguments won. 

oOo

“What are they saying?” Ahsoka shouted over the chorus of clones.

Around nine, some clones had somehow brought drums and started to play war chants that they had been taught by Jango Fett on Kamino. Once one started, most troopers joined, which led to a quite remarkable a capella song. 

Obi-Wan leaned closer to his grandpadawan and translated the Mando’a for her:

“ _As ruthless as Death itself,_

_The pitiless face of the Jedi's wrath,_

_Let us look down on all who are before us._

_Brothers all, one heart of justice._

_Glory_.”

Ahsoka made a baffled face to him, and he laughed at her expression.

“They’re war chants,” Obi-Wan noted with a shrug. Honestly, he quite liked it. The lyrics could use some work, true, but the clones had a truly lovely voice and they had perfected the art of singing together. They liked to do so, as well: their pleasure of sharing this freely could be seen and felt.

“You don’t disapprove? It’s not very Jedi-like.”

“They’re _Mandalorian_ war chants,” he specified. “Edited to fit the clones, mind you, but still Mandalorian. They’re part of the troopers' upbringing and culture, it’s not my place to approve or disapprove. It’s theirs.”

“One of the few things they have.”

“Indeed.”

“What will happen to them? Will the Senate let them go?” 

“Time will tell,” Obi-Wan sighed, losing his appreciative smile for the song. The thought bothered him constantly, but he had been hoping for an evening free of worry.

“Time?!” Ahsoka took offense. “You can’t let this be up to chance or time! You have to make the Senate—”

“What?” Obi-Wan interrupted curtly. “Make the Senate do what, Ahsoka?”

She fell silent and pulled back, realizing what she had nearly suggested: an abuse of power that could only lead to the Dark side. She bit her bottom lip but didn’t back down, meeting Obi-Wan’s eyes stubbornly. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What’s the point of the Council, of the Jedi, if you can’t even protect those who die for you?” she asked.

Obi-Wan’s fingers curled around his elbows tightly, but he kept his calm and tried to find a way to diffuse her anger while knowing nothing would satisfy her. Ahsoka was full of resentment and spending time with a Fallen Anakin hadn’t helped in any way. Obi-Wan had been tempted to suggest she should stop visiting him, but that would have just made her angrier.

“Ma’am, I have to ask you to leave.”

They startled and looked up to find that Cody and Rex had stopped singing and turned their attention on them. Rex looked torn, but Cody’s disapproval was carved into every line of his expression. He glanced at his vod pointedly, and Rex moved to put a hand on Ahsoka’s elbow and drew her away.

“Wha— Cody!”

“Come on,” Rex said gently. “Let’s get a drink and find the 501st.” With both hands on her shoulders, he pushed her toward the buffet.

“That wasn’t necessary,” Obi-Wan murmured.

Cody didn’t answer. They both knew that if Obi-Wan had truly disagreed he would have stopped Rex. 

“She’s right, you know.”

“No, she isn’t,” Cody disagreed firmly. “We aren’t your responsibility alone, we didn't die for you alone, and we don’t depend on you alone. We fought for the Republic, and if the Republic fails to remember and honor that, it isn’t on you. She was wrong to imply otherwise and take her anger on you. That’s not helping.” Cody reached for the back of Obi-Wan’s head and leaned forward to lightly knock their forehead together. 

Obi-Wan breathed in deeply and let Cody’s calm bolster his own. Once he had calmed down, Cody squeezed his neck gently.

“Wait here. I’ll be just a moment,” he said before walking toward the drummers. 

There were too many people for Obi-Wan to see what he did, but as he caught sight of him coming back, the music changed to something less war-like and more cheerful.

“ _Ner Jetii! Aliit, ka’rta, bal buir!_

_Aliit ori'shya tal'din._

_Ner Jetii! Atin, dikut’la alor!_

_Hukaat'kama darasuum.”_

Obi-Wan pressed a hand over his mouth to hide his mix of a smile and a giggle.

“Master, what are they saying?” a young voice asked. A red-head padawan stopped by Obi-Wan’s side, looking up at him curiously.

“Padawan Kestis. Isn’t it late for you?”

“Master Tapal said I could come and ask you what they’re singing —they don’t want to tell me. I have to go after that, but I _really_ want to know.”

Obi-Wan cleared his throat and, as Cody reached them, he translated: “This one says:

_My Jedi! Clan, heart, and parent!_

_Family is more than blood._

_My Jedi! Stubborn, foolish leader!_

_Watching each other back forever._ ”

Cal Kestis smiled widely. “That’s nice. And the others?”

“Those might not be for young ears, padawan.”

“Oh. Is that why they didn’t want to tell me?” He wiggled his nose. “I’m twelve, I can handle it.” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at him, and the padawan turned obediently around. “But I should probably go now. Thanks, Master Kenobi! Good night!” He left as he had come, weaving in and out of the crowd until he reached his towering Master, easy to spot as he stood one head above the clones. 

“Good night,” Obi-Wan replied distractingly, looking at his Commander with a soft smile. “That was _not_ a Mandalorian war chant.”

“No, it was ours,” Cody confirmed. “Written by a vod in the Wolffepack, I think. As the Mandalorian like to remind us, we are not them. We are the _vode_ . And we can handle ourselves, _ner Jetii_. Don’t fret for us.”

“Now, Cody, you’re asking a bit too much,” Obi-Wan pointed out with a smile of self-deprecation.

Obi-Wan dragged him to the 212th in answer, finding his way thanks to the head feathers of the only omwati in attendance. 

"Ah, General, Commander," Lieutenant Tsix said as they reached them. The planetologist was daintily holding a glass of sparkly wine, surrounded by a wall of 212th troopers protecting her fragile body from the rowdiness of a crowd. "Excellent timing, as usual. We were talking of Lothal. I finished the analysis you requested. An excellent option for an extended stay, I must say."

"Lin was practicing her selling speech," Wooley explained. "And I'm sold. The GAR tour went through much worse places."

"You weren't convinced until I mentioned the history of the Jedi Temple," Tsix noted with a bemused blink of her eyes.

"Well, yeah. There's to be something of interest for the General, Lin, or we'll never have him on site."

Tsix let out a trill of understanding. 

"Tell us more about that Jedi Temple, Sir," Boil requested, leaning forward. "Any crazy stuff in there?"

Obi-Wan let himself be drawn into a lecture supplemented by Tsix's inquisitive inquiries, and the 212th basked into seeing their General happy and enthusiast. 

Yes. Lothal would do. 

oOo

The next day, Cody came out of his brain operation with the promised headache, a lot of pain medications, and the confirmation by Helix that everything had gone well. Satisfied by this promise, he waited for his release with as much patience as possible. 

When Rex came by his room in the middle of the afternoon, Cody turned to him hopefully. “Did Helix tell you I could go?” He noticed his friend’s serious expression and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Did General Kenobi come to see you?”

“This morning, when I came out of surgery. I was still out of it so he didn’t stay long. Why? What’s going on?”

“After the party ended yesterday, some troopers went to clubs, got into fights, and caused trouble.”

Cody straightened slowly. “Some of ours?”

“No, but the press heard of it, and Senators are using it as an excuse to paint us as threats to the ‘safety of the Republic’,” Rex explained with an exasperated roll of his eyes. They had fought and died for the safety of the Republic!

Cody swore under his breath and rubbed at the edge of his bandages ("a very fetching crown", Obi-Wan had called it to tease him).

“I saw the General walk into the Healing halls ahead of me. I thought he might be coming to talk to you about it.”

“He must be with the Senator,” Cody realized and pushed his sheets back to get out of the bed.

“Are you sure you should stand up?” Rex asked but didn’t try to stop him.

“I need to kriffing move,” Cody muttered. “I can’t watch, read or listen to anything because it gives me a karking headache. I’m _bored_ , Rex.”

Smirking at his vod’s plight, Rex let him stood up and only caught his elbow when he wobbled slightly. With the rush of blood, Cody's temples throbbed for a moment before calming down. 

Once it passed, fortunately, the patients' garb of the Temple was much better than those of the GAR, and Cody could leave the room without any shame. 

They left the Surgery Hall with only a frown from a padawan who relented at the promise that they weren’t going far. In the Care Hall beside it, they made a beeline for Senator Amidala’s room. They were surprised to find Padmé and Obi-Wan outside instead, talking in an empty hallway.

“You think it will pass?” Obi-Wan was asking.

“Yes. I think I know exactly where they’re going with this,” Padmé replied, glaring at a plant. “If the Senate refuses to give citizenship to the clones, it will most certainly backfire because that would make them outcasts, and a potential threat. No Senator would feel safe with millions of clones of Jango Fett without a way to earn their living.”

“I see your point. That way just leads to more bounty hunters and mercenaries.”

“Yes, and I reminded them of that, several times,” Padmé confirmed, waving her hands passionately. “I think they finally understood my point, so they’ll vote for the citizenship, but they want something else in exchange.”

“Because nothing is free,” Obi-Wan sighed.

“Not for them. I heard from a friend on the committee. — I know I should have gone!— They just added an article forcing all clones to work at least two years in Republic Service as ‘compensation’ for the cloning costs.”

“That’s—”

“Preposterous!” Padmé shouted before glancing at her bedroom’s door and calming down. (The twins must be sleeping.) “The clones have already done more than enough.”

Obi-Wan was smoothing his beard as he pondered this news. “I see where they’re going with this. Two years of service mean that all the most experienced clones already have finished their mandatory time, which allows them to diminish the army numbers and only keep the youngest. The youngest being, of course, more malleable.”

“This also means that all the cadets would have to serve upon reaching maturity,” Padmé pointed out. “It’s compulsory and discriminatory military service. It’s unacceptable!”

“It’s an easy and sure way for the Republic to get competent security staff for the twenty years to come. It’s dreadfully effective. Which Senator suggested this?”

Cody and Rex couldn’t hear Padmé’s answer. The name was mixed with what would be cursing in anyone else’s mouth (they gathered she wasn't a fan of them). The clones stepped forward and announced their presence.

“Can you stop them?”

Startled, Padmé and Obi-Wan looked at them without understanding.

“Can you stop that… article?” Cody asked.

Padmé winced. “The vote is tomorrow. I _will_ be there, and as the first author of the law, I will speak up against it, you have my word, but it’s extremely rare that only part of a law is accepted. Most Senators don’t take the time to vote on each article separately. They vote ‘for’ or ‘against.’ And with the fuss that they’re making about that scuffle in the clubs, the Faithful Senators are clearly trying to imply that the clones need to be controlled and channeled into military service.”

“I heard the holonews. That’s exactly what they’re saying,” Rex confirmed. 

“So, either we’re good for exile… or our vod’ika will continue to fight,” Cody concluded, feeling his temples throb.

No denial came up.

Kriff it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aliit - Clan, family in Mando'a
> 
> The first song is "Ka'rta Tor" and canon. The second song was written by me in most probably butchered Mando'a. :/ I love the idea that Jango Fett adapted Mandalorian songs for the clones. ♥
> 
> Once again, Lieutenant Tsix is from my one-shot, [the GAR galactic tour](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23215849). Since some of you read it and commented they'd love to see her here, I thought the party and Lothal were the perfect time to include her. :) Thanks for your enthusiasm!
> 
> Regarding this story, I'm thinking of two more chapters before its end (the vote + an epilogue)!


	15. The Vote aka Knight Amidala in position

It was early morning on Coruscant. The sunrise was filling the Council’s room with a warm light that failed to cheer its occupants.

“Before we begin on the matter of the vote,” Plo Koon said, “there’s news I need to share. As you know, I kept on my flagship the three thousand clones still in fetus stage. A few hours ago, their life support system experienced a critical failure. The domino effect in which it happened led my specialists to think that this was predetermined by the Kaminoan. We failed to repair the system in time and…” The Kel Dor had to pause and cross his hands behind his back. “... only sixty infants among the most developed could be saved. As we do not have the necessary equipment to provide for them, we fear that this number will fall before our arrival on Coruscant.”

The silence settled and lasted. Their grief was worsened by a deep weariness which they all felt like a lead weight burdening their heart. Despite the end of the war, they were still lost in its shadows, and the threat of the Dark was still strong and relentless.

Shaak Ti’s anger burnt bright, but they all politely waited for her to release it in the Force without a word, just like they released their own, and the accompanying grief, betrayal, and despair. 

“The Kaminoan shame themselves with this coward act of barbarism,” Lumina commented with a voice heavy with disapproval.

“They have never seen the clones as anything else than their products. They’d rather see them die than lose their control, and this allows them to get the last word,” Shaak Ti said as she stared at her clenched hands.

“And of course, they would redirect the blame on Master Koon if we ever thought of accusing them,” Obi-Wan sighed, rubbing his face. He was so tired…

“How long until you reach Coruscant?” Ki-Adi-Mundi asked Plo.

“Twenty-seven hours. I’m told that we could detour by Corellia for resupply, which would delay us for at least twelve hours more.”

“You should take all the time you need if it would save the children,” Stass Allie said.

They all agreed. Plo bowed without comment. They all knew he had been planning on it, and the agreement was just a formality.

“In our negotiations during the evacuation, I agreed to bring the development pods back to Kamino. I’d like to formally request to be relieved of this duty.”

The Councilors shared glances among them. While they perfectly understood and wouldn’t force Plo to return to Kamino after the terrible hours he must have gone through (and will still go through), none of them were eager to volunteer either.

“I will,” Ki-Adi-Mundi offered. At the surprised glances he received, he explained: “Two can play that game.”

“Not the Jedi’s way, revenge is,” Yoda pointed out in warning. 

“Of course, Master Yoda,” Mundi agreed, but all of them understood that his apparent calm was just a front. Whatever he was planning, the Kaminoan wouldn’t appreciate seeing him…

No Councilor spoke up to change his mind.

“On the matter of the vote,” Obi-Wan said, turning to the original topic of their meeting.

“What can we do?” Stass Allie asked, refusing to despair. “If the law is voted with the eighth article, could we get the clones assigned to us, maybe?”

“According to our files and my calculations,” Depa said, “seven hundred thousand clones currently on duty served less than two years in the GAR. In one year, this will fall to three hundred thousand.”

Stass bowed her head in sadness. No-one needed to point out that the Jedi Order couldn’t get so many soldiers assigned to them. They had no need for so many. 

No other suggestion came forth. 

“Trust the Force, we have to,” Yoda finally offered.

“With all due respect, Master Yoda, the Force didn’t protect our men during this war,” Master Tapal commented calmly but firmly. 

All eyes turned on him, not without a little incredulity. Although he wasn’t wrong, saying it just wasn’t _done_. Trusting the Force was the last recourse of a Jedi when everything else was lost. It didn’t necessarily work, but it was a principle of hope. That comment was nearly sacrilege, and insolent when said to the Grandmaster of the Order. However, before Yoda could do more than tilt his ears in irritation, Jaro Tapal finished his thought:

“They protected themselves.”

Those words brought to Obi-Wan’s mind the conversation he had with Cody during the party. He blinked and straightened in his seat, leaning on an elbow toward Jaro. “Of course!”

All eyes turned on him, interrogative. Obi-Wan’s smile, as large and bright as it was in this instant, had become a rare thing during the war.

“Of course! That’s brilliant, Jaro,” Obi-Wan insisted, shaking his hand in thought.

“It seems you have an idea,” Shaak Ti commented. “Could you fill the rest of us in?”

“ _We_ can’t do anything. We all gathered that. Anything we could do would be double-edged considering our tense relationship with the Senate, especially the Senators faithful to… the late Chancellor,” Obi-Wan explained.

“And the divided opinion of the public,” Jaro completed.

Obi-Wan nodded in agreement. “But the clones… the clones can and should speak up. It’s their future, their lives, their brothers.”

“Alright, but how?” Stass asked, curious. 

“There are already some who consider them as a threat,” Luminara pointed out.

“Which is precisely why they have to appear as what they are: complex beings with the right to control their own lives,” Jaro said.

“The old-fashioned way,” Obi-Wan clarified with a smirk.

oOo

Rex stared at the flimsy boards spread on the refectory table and glanced at his friend, skeptical. “We’re doing _what_?”

“The General calls it a peaceful protest,” Cody replied, throwing on the table more pens and paints. 

“Translation?”

“We fill up the Senate Plaza, and we get _loud_.”

“Fine with me!” Jesse announced cheerfully, reaching immediately for the most vivid paints. “Wait. What do we write on those signs?”

Cody hesitated. None of them were exactly good with words. He might be one of the best in this matter, but he still had a low headache plaguing his thoughts despite the medicine. He was tempted to call Obi-Wan for suggestions, but the General was busy talking with Senator Amidala. She had called him urgently about her speech.

“Shall I call Lieutenant Tsix?” Wooley offered.

“As much as I love her, vod. She’s a scientist, not a writer or a politician, and you know how weird she can get,” Boil commented, skeptical.

“Hey. Is this where you’re hogging all the paint?”

The 212th and 501st troopers turned to see some of the 13th battalion stepping in the empty refectory they had requisitioned. Commander Nimble was leading the group with a young padawan on his shoulders.

“Hello!” The boy greeted them cheerfully. “I’m Cal Kestis. Master Kenobi said you might need help. I’m in charge of telling you what is a big no-no and what is fine!”

“Oh, thank the Force,” Appo muttered to himself.

“Does this mean we can’t write anything we don’t want a padawan to read?”Jesse asked with a pen in hand. He was erasing what he had just written under Rex’s exasperated glance.

“Yep. Pretty sure that’s the General’s way of telling us to behave,” Boil agreed with a chuckle.

“Hey, is this the paint party?” someone hollered cheerfully.

Meili Kocho walked in with a gaggle of curious cadets behind her.

“And _that’s_ the General’s way to tell us not to hold back,” Cody concluded with a raised eyebrow. 

Well… this was going to be fun.

oOo

In her rooms of the 500 Republica, Padmé sat in front of a mirror as her handmaidens did her hair and make-up. 

Obi-Wan was on a nearby couch with a hand resting inside Leia et Luke’s cradle, ready to rock it if they woke up.

They were all listening to the holonews.

_“Five thousand clones are currently gathered on Senate Plaza, and their numbers are growing by the minute. They’re holding signs asking for Republic citizenship and the repeal of article 8th of the law which demands that every clone serve two years in Republic forces.”_

Clones holding signs and shouting slogans were shown briefly before the holoreporter appeared with a commander by her side.

_“I’m standing with Marshall Commander Cody of the 212th, right-hand man of General Kenobi. Commander, you’re one of the leaders of this march, could you explain your motivations?”_

Padmé shifted slightly to get a better view. Dormé adapted, moving with her as she pinned her hair in a braided crown. 

_“We have fought for the Republic proudly, and as the war ends, all we ask is the choice to live as any other member of the Grand Army of the Republic who served with us.”_

_“We remind our audience that you have to be a Republic citizen to be part of the GAR. The clones are the only exception.”_

_“Yes, and we’d like that to be rectified.”_

_“But without that mandatory two years long service, is that it?”_

_“I have been fighting since the beginning of the war, I have served more than two years, and I do not regret it, but it wasn’t a choice. It was the need of war. Now that it ends, why would my younger vode, my younger brothers, be forced to serve and be deprived of choosing how they want to live, when so many of us have already died and bled for the Republic? We won that war, as was our reason to be born. Why are we asked for more?”_

_“Did you talk about this with General Kenobi?”_

_“Yes, the General supports our movement and agrees with our demands.”_

_“Will he join you?”_

_“Unfortunately, the General’s extremely busy with the end of the war...”_

Padmé tilted her head up so that Sabé could check her work after painting her lips red. Once she was satisfied, the Senator spoke up: “Cody’s doing well.”

“He’s reliable on every battlefield,” Obi-Wan agreed fondly.

“But you should join him.”

The Jedi blinked in surprise and dragged his eyes away from his men and their first exercise in democracy. “You think?”

“You were right, they’re the ones who need to be seen and heard first and foremost, but they need your support now more than ever. Where would you rather be? Playing babysitter, or by their side?”

Obi-Wan huffed, glancing at the twins briefly before standing. “As always, you’re the voice of wisdom, my dear.” He stopped by her side, his eyes lingering on the dress that Sabé was bringing out. There was a message in its choice that he didn’t miss. He could have said a thousand words. So much rested on Padmé’s words later that day. Instead, he met her eyes and nodded at the determination he founded there. “May the Force be with you,” he wished before leaving.

Half an hour later, Padmé was going to leave for the Senate when the holonews announced:

_“There’s a commotion back there. I’m trying to get us a better view… Oh, is that brown robes? Yes, yes, it is! Jedi have joined the clones! I’m catching sight of a Togruta, that must be General Shaak Ti. And by the cheers I hear from the clones, General Kenobi’s there as well! As you can see, the troopers are overjoyed. There’s a tall Lasat here as well, I believe that’s a new member of the Jedi Council. It seems the Council wishes to show they're supporting their men!”_

Smiling fondly, Padmé turned to her staff. Dormé and Captain Typho had been by her side since she had become a Senator. Sabé, who had been working on her own duties, had come running as soon as Padmé had reached out to her when she had learned of Anakin’s Fall. Padmé had needed a close friend to help her through this tiring time of doubt and new matrimony. It comforted her to see Sabé beside the cradle of her children, knowing that they couldn’t be safer and more cared for. Once she had kissed the forehead of both, it helped her to square her shoulders and walk away from them for the first time since she had given birth. 

It had to be done, for the future of many more children. 

Obi-Wan had told her what had happened to the unborn clones, and she was filled with the righteous rage of a mother.   
There would be no other clones sacrificed.  
No more.

oOo 

Commander Fox was keeping an eye on his datapad at all times. The monitoring device allowed him to keep an eye on the situation in the Senate Plaza and the Rotunda at the same time, which kept him from feeling torn between duty and his wish to join his vode. 

“Sir. Senator Amidala has arrived,” Commander Stone warned him by com, giving him the location of her landing pad. 

Fox immediately altered his patrol toward the hallway she would take to reach the Senate Chamber, anxious to see their herald for this battle. He faltered in his pace when he caught sight of her. He was familiar with the game of appearances the Senators play. They could send a message to friends and enemies with just a few choices of attire. Fox sometimes missed it entirely, not aware of the intricacy of politics and not interested in them. However, that day, he didn't miss Senator Amidala's message. Her dress was in the shiny white of the troopers, the boys in white as the public called them. It had the shoulders and chest structure of a military uniform, and then swayed into a fluid long skirt as red as blood… their blood, he realized. From anyone else, it would be ominous, but on her, it was an acknowledgment of their sacrifice. 

Their eyes met, and the Senator’s blood-red lips stretched into a cordial but sharp smile. The smile of someone ready to jump into battle and _win_.

Fox bowed his head, lower than he usually would, and watched her pass. He had nothing to say. She understood.

She was their knight, and she was going to win this joust.

oOo

The sheer joy of the troopers when they caught sight of the Jedi among them nearly brought Obi-Wan to tears. He hadn’t realized how much it would mean to them. It had been silly of him to think that they’d be better served if they weren’t always associated with the Jedi. It was too late for that, and they didn’t wish it. He owed Padmé a few more words of thanks.

“General,” Cody called as he reached him.

Obi-Wan went for a hug, perfectly aware of the holorecorder fixed on him and doing it despite and because of it at the same time. Cody accepted the embrace casually as if it was the most natural thing despite being the first time. It felt natural.

“I’m glad you came.”

“Padmé made me see sense,” Obi-Wan admitted with a chuckle as he pulled back.

“Then I owe her my thanks.”

“That makes two of us. I’m glad to be here.” 

He caught sight of a trooper sitting on the ground and holding a sign: _“I served 470 days. I lost both legs. I’ll serve 400 days more if it means my brothers have a choice.”_

"Joker, is that you?!” Obi-Wan walked up to him and kneeled to squeeze his shoulders.

“Hey, General,” Joker said with a grin, lowering his sign to clasp his superior’s forearm.

“I’m so glad to see you. How did your surgery go?”

“You know. I’ll live,” Joker replied, light-hearted. He waved his sign. “Ready to serve the rest of my two years!”

Neither of them commented on the holorecorder hovering to zoom on Joker’s artificial legs. They ignored it and focused on catching up.

A few minutes later, they were surprised when the crowd around them parted to let through a familiar figure.

“Hum. Hello,” Lieutenant Tsix greeted them hesitantly. She was in her military uniform and was holding her own sign, a simple: “ _My rights = Their rights._ ” She looked a bit self-conscious when she noticed the holorecorder turning toward her, but she held it higher. “Wooley said you’d be there, Joker. May I stay with you?”

“Lin! Come on, sat beside me, I’ll keep the others from walking on you!” Joker promised with a laugh, patting at the ground next to him.

The omwati folded herself into a sitting position. “That would be appreciated.”

“It’s cool you came.”

“I was told there was a party. As you know, I’m the life of the party everywhere I go, so I had to come,” she explained, deadpan. 

Joker snickered. “You bet.”

“Happy to have you, Tsix,” Cody told her before turning back to the protest. 

An hour later, for the beginning of the Senate’s assembly, the clones quieted and huddled around portative holoprojectors to follow the debate. 

Cody and Obi-Wan had gathered with some of the 212th and 501st. Grumbles sounded out as the Faithful Senators defended their reasoning for the 8th article.

“Why isn’t Senator Amidala speaking up?” Rex asked, frowning.

“She wants to speak last,” Obi-Wan replied. “Each member of the committee is guaranteed only one intervention, and she wants to make it count. Have faith, she won’t disappoint you.”

At last, Chancellor Mon Mothma gave the floor to Amidala, and the troopers all quieted expectantly, hopeful.

“Senators, esteemed colleagues,” Padmé started, standing straight in her hovering pod. “We are today on the edge of a new era of peace. The cost of this peace was great and terrible. Planets were plundered. Lives were lost. Ethics were disregarded. Despite the surrender of Separatist Forces, this war leaves us all with multiple wounds and deep regrets. Yet, the Faithful Senators only speak of the financial cost. We are told that to avoid an economic crisis we should ensure that the Republic funding of the clones was repaid by mandatory service. According to their estimation, a mere two years of service would do. Does it? Truly? Are we to take your words on it, Senators? Since financial costs are so important to you, where are your numbers? I heard none. Allow me to correct this oversight.”

With an elegant hand gesture, Padmé requested a datapad from her handmaidens.

“This is the first contract signed with the Kaminoan, the only one currently available publicly in the Senate archives. If you’d consult your consoles, Senators, you’ll see the chapter regarding payment details. For our esteemed public, I shall read the relevant passages out loud:

_“Paragraph three. The cost of production of one clone is three thousand credits._

_“Paragraph five. The cost of education to maturity of one clone is thirty-two thousand credits.”_

There were murmurs and exclamations among the clones. Joker whispered with wide eyes: “Holy shit, I’m expensive.” When one of his friends elbowed him, he hissed with a smirk: “Hey, easy, you don’t have the means to pay for this, vod.”

In the Senate, Amidala had paused to let the Senators confirm her reading. She resumed, louder and stronger:

“Is this the costs you were talking about, Faithful Senators? The price required for the life of a sentient being?”

There was sudden chatter coming for the holoprojector as hundreds of Senators became agitated.

“What’s going on?” Boil asked, frowning. “Why are they making a fuss suddenly. I don’t get it?”

“Listen,” Obi-Wan encouraged him with a tight smile. He was holding a fist closed in front of his lips. “She’s reaching her point.”

Indeed, Amidala put her datapad down and quoted a whole other document that all Senators had to know: _“Paragraph twenty-two of the Constitution of the Galactic Republic: no sentient beings shall ever be assimilated to property and forced into slavery—”_

The noise became greater as her point was understood, and Mon Mothma had to demand silence so Padmé could finish her quote.

“ _Paragraph ten of the Constitution of the Galactic Republic,”_ she added afterward, _“a sentient being is defined by their ability to be aware of their own existence, emotions, and reflection. All members of a species identified in the Codex of Sentient Life are recognized as sentient beings. Affiliation to a species is recognized by its genetic code._

“The clones are recognized by every genetic test as members of the human species, and as such as sentient beings. Putting a price on their life is therefore forbidden by the Constitution, in virtue of which, article 8th, submitted by the Faithful Senators, is unconstitutional and unacceptable by this esteemed assembly,” Amidala concluded with a fierce look fixed on Mon Mothma. “Chancellor, it is your responsibility to ensure the respect of the Constitution by Republic laws. I call on you to dismiss article 8th!”

The noise that suddenly erupted, both in the Senate Chamber and on the Senate Plaza, was difficult to differentiate. Soon, a call of “Dismiss! Dismiss!” was noticed coming from the holoprojectors and the clones caught on, clapping as they demanded the same thing as the Senators.

“That was the plan?” Cody asked over the ruckus.

“It was,” Obi-Wan confirmed with a large grin. “Padmé called me early this morning to go over it. She got the idea while feeding the twins in the middle of the night. She barely slept.”

The Chancellor, after letting the Senators express their wish, called for silence and announced: “The request of Senator Amidala, representative of the Chommell sector, must be studied by the Constitutional Committee. We’ll have a recess of half an hour so they can make their decision. The assembly is dismissed.”

“The Constitutional Committee?” Rex asked, annoyed not to get an immediate answer.

“Nine specialists of the Constitution led by the Chancellor,” Obi-Wan explained. “Padmé called Mon Mothma, and she was told that if she played her cards right, it would definitely work. Fingers crossed, gentlemen, but there are very good chances this is it.”

Troopers crossed their fingers obediently.

"Can someone explain to me why putting a price on our head is suddenly illegal when they already paid for us?" Appo asked while rubbing his temple.

"Strictly speaking, it has always been illegal," Obi-Wan replied with a sigh. "Cloning of sentient beings is illegal in itself in Republic State. The Senate has just been too willing to ignore it due to the demands of war. Now that it has ended, however, and that we have a new Chancellor, they must make a point to uphold the laws which have been trampled. Otherwise, they would weaken themselves and the Republic furthermore." 

The half an hour was filled with tensed conversations and teasing about their “price”, but the mood on the plaza was more hopeful than before Senator Amidala’s speech.

When Mon Mothma called for attention, the silence was complete.

“Following Senator Amidala’s request, and after careful review by the Constitutional Committee, article 8th has been declared unconstitutional and is therefore removed from the proposed legislation.”

Tsix cowered as an explosion of noise rang out around her, but she was laughing as she pressed her hands on her ears, and she let herself be hugged by Joker. Clones were jumping up and down, hugging each other and cheering so loudly that they could be heard on the other side of the Senate District, and even inside the building itself.

They nearly missed the following announcement:

“The vote will now begin.”

They slowly calmed down to turn their attention on the vote itself, waiting impatiently for the numbers to be revealed.

“With 78% of expressed votes, the proposed legislation passes!”

No thunder had ever been louder.

oOo

Padmé’s hands were shaking with the adrenaline fallout as she walked to a landpad to leave the Rotunda. It had worked! Between the twins and the stress, she hadn’t slept more than five hours in the last forty-eight hours, but her speech was a success and it had kriffing worked! She was giddy with excitement. 

Exhausted but giddy.

She had to slip away from her friends congratulating her for her brilliant call on the Constitutional Committee because she was in dear need of a nap, but it was worth it. Later, she would share the news with Anakin, he would love to hear how she played those Faithful Senators. Oh, thank the Force that it had worked!

Movement in the corner of her eyes caught her attention. She realized belatedly that the large hallway she was taking was lined with Coruscant Guards on both sides. They were standing at attention as she passed.

A guard of honor.

At the end of the hallway, Commander Fox was waiting by the door. He saluted as she reached him and nodded. “Senator.”

She stopped and smiled. “Commander.”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” he said, more candidly than she ever heard from him. 

“No thanks are necessary, Commander. It was my honor.” She offered her hand. He clasped her forearm in the way the troopers did between them, a show of brotherhood. She mirrored him and patted his hand.

“Congratulations on your citizenship, Commander. It’s overdue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The longest chapter of this story and one of my favorites. :) It gave me Amidala-feels and I had to stop before editing to write [an Obidala one-shot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23946862) because I love Padmé, guys, I won't lie.
> 
> Now, this means there's only the epilogue left! However, I was wondering if people would want to give me prompts afterward. Since there are a lot of characters and I couldn't develop their PoV all the time to keep the plot going, if you give me a prompt, I'm willing to make some short chapters about them. It can also be romantic (Cody/Obi-Wan, Aayla/Bly, Meili/Jango, etc...). If people are interested, I could also accept prompts on tumblr (anon is open). But let me know if you'd be interested, otherwise, I'd just move on from the story (and once I did, it's hard to bring me back ^^').


	16. Epilogue - Two years after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This last chapter has been edited by _[Arboreal](https://arboreal-elm-ash-oak.tumblr.com/)_ , who was very helpful. Thanks! ♥

“It was a pleasure to see you again, my friend.” 

Bail looked tiny on the holoprojector of the spaceship, but his voice was strong and honest. Obi-Wan smiled and nodded.

“Likewise. You were right when warning me of the difficulty to split your time between two planets, my friend. Any tip you may have would be welcome.”

“The key is to make sure not to neglect your loved ones, no matter what,” Bail replied with a smile. “Which is easier to say than to put in practice, unfortunately.”

“I can imagine. How are the children?”

“I must admit that when we adopted two clones, their overprotectiveness wasn’t the first thing we had in mind,” Bail said with a chuckle. “They can always be found around Latena, one way or another. Last time I saw them, they had taken her from her cradle to nap together.”

“Your Princess will be well protected.”

“Maybe a tad too much. I foresee a few quarrels in our future.”

“Oh, they’ll keep you on your toes, I guarantee it,” Obi-Wan agreed, laughing. “But you wouldn’t have adopted three kids in two years if you weren’t up to the task.”

“Breha likes to say that I needed a new challenge after becoming Vice-Chancellor. I rather think that I needed a reminder of what truly matters. One can get lost and blinded by politics, but coming back to your children… it’s humbling.”

“I understand the feeling. Living on Coruscant is so different from living on Lothal. I’m reminded of it each time I land on one after months away,” Obi-Wan admitted. His eyes drifted to the doorway to the cockpit where Cody was leaning on the wall and signed to him that they would land soon. Obi-Wan nodded and smiled at him before finishing his thought. “Lothal feels like a breath of fresh air, compared to Coruscant.”

“That might be due to the actual presence of greenery,” Bail joked with a smirk.

“Very funny,” Obi-Wan replied, chuckling. There were tremors due to the ship entering atmo, and he stabilized himself with a hand on the table. The holo flickered due to interference. “I have to leave you soon, my friend. The next time you come to inspect our progress, do come with all your family, we’d love to see you all.”

“Likewise. I’ll certainly try to bring the boys. They’d love to see it, I’m sure. They might not talk about it, but I know that being apart from their brothers was a difficult change for them. You were right to suggest we adopt two, one would have been lonely.”

"It's an issue we noticed early on, and one of the many reasons why the older clones are reluctant to consider adoption."

"How many have been adopted yet?"

"A few hundred at most. The process is long and difficult for everyone, and since the move to Lothal fewer and fewer clones volunteer. They have been raised in this communal life, and they aren't looking forward to leaving it." 

"Is the sponsorship between generations working?"

"Yes, very well. The men love their little brothers dearly."

"Good. You have a great thing going there, Obi-Wan." 

“I agree. Take care, Bail. May the Force be with you.”

“And you.”

The communication ended, and Obi-Wan went to the cockpit. Plo Koon was piloting with Wolffe in the copilot seat and Cody in the navigation one. Obi-Wan held onto the back of Cody’s seat as he watched their approach to Lothal’s Temple.

The creation of Aliitiya (literally "the Clan's city" in Mando'a) had not changed the Temple in any way. The natural stone spire was standing tall as it had been for centuries. However, it was now surrounded by houses and public places built in concentric circles around the Temple, only two floors high at most to not hide the view of the Temple from afar. Gardens, pathways, and walkways connected each circle and building. From the ground, it offered a charming little town where everyone who wished for privacy could have it without being isolated. From the air, it traced a harmonious design centered around the Temple. 

Obi-Wan loved it dearly. It was home, in a very different way than the Coruscant Temple, but still home.

“The kids have been let loose,” Wolffe commented as they hovered above a landing pad and slowly went down.

Indeed, there were colorful garlands on every surface available, including the smallest stone spires. Obi-Wan chuckled at the sight. 

“Do you miss the extravagant Coruscanti decorations?” Cody asked.

“Force, no,” Wolffe grumbled, “I can still feel the headache those strobe lights gave me.”

They were just coming back from the celebration of Armistice Day on Coruscant. All members of the Jedi Council and former Commanders of the GAR were invited each year. Although all of them hadn't gone like they had the first year, they made sure that most of them showed up. The four of them had left as soon as possible, however, so that they could be present for the celebrations on Lothal.

The Command of the Clones (elected representatives of the vode) had decided that the Republic could have Armistice Day, but they would celebrate their own event: Citizen Day, four days later. Obviously, the Jedi were expected to attend. Neither Obi-Wan nor Plo would miss it.

The two pairs of Jedi and (ex-)Commanders went to grab their bags before leaving the ship. Cody, always ready, had already prepared his and Obi-Wan’s luggage, thus they came down the ramp first. They were met by a small welcoming committee.

“Master!”

Obi-Wan smiled at the young Tholothian who was bouncing on her toes. “Good afternoon, Padawan.” He offered her an arm, and she beamed in delight, running to him to hug his side. He patted her back and stroked her scaled cranium. She immediately relaxed, all tension leaving her frame. Obi-Wan hummed. “We’ll have to take a moment to meditate before the celebration, I see.”

“Sorry, Master,” the young one murmured.

“That’s alright, Katooni. We talked about this, don’t apologize for it,” Obi-Wan reassured her before smiling at Boil as he walked up to them. “Everything’s alright?”

“All good, Sir. The kid was just beside herself being separated from you for the first time,” Boil explained with a shrug.

Obi-Wan pretended not to notice when his padawan handed over a small bag to Cody behind his back.

He had taken Katooni as his padawan a few months after the Armistice. The youngling had been marked by the war and an unfortunate adventure she had had during her Gathering on Ilum. She had developed an anxiety disorder which she controlled by stress-baking. Obi-Wan could admit (to himself and Cody, but never to Anakin), that he had been a little oblivious when the initiate had brought him milk rolls nearly every morning. He had naively thought that she did it for others as well. The exasperated Head Cook had come to scold him, thinking he was letting the girl stew on purpose. She ended up explaining to an embarrassed Jedi Master that he was the only one to get warm milk rolls every morning and that the youngling was doing it to get his attention. Katooni and he had a long conversation after that. Obi-Wan had agreed to take her as his padawan but insisted she shouldn’t bake for him. She had agreed. Now, she gave everything she baked to Cody, who invariably shared the food with Obi-Wan. 

Case in point…

Cody held out the container under Obi-Wan’s nose while he bit into a cookie pointedly. Obi-Wan sighed but reached for a cookie without a comment. He was happy that Cody and Katooni had such a good relationship, he wasn’t going to begrudge them their little game. An eye poked out from underneath Obi-Wan’s arm, and he hummed approvingly.

“Excellent nut and chocolate combination,” he commented.

She beamed in delight.

“Hey, squirt!” Wolffe called as he loudly came down the ramp.

The young Nautolan he was talking to made a face but accepted the head rub he was given, resigned. Nonetheless, he evaded Wolffe as soon as he could to reach Plo, who squeezed his shoulder in greeting. 

“Hello, young padawan.”

“Master,” Zatt sighed. “Why did you have to take  _ him  _ and leave  _ me _ ?”

Wolffe laughed as he walked away to the communal house he shared with his pack. “When you’re tall enough not to be squished by a crowd, we can switch, kiddo!”

“I’m tall!” 

“Next year, padawan. You’d have had your growth spurt by then,” Plo told him gently before turning to Obi-Wan. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Definitely.”

They parted ways to go back to their housing, greeting the Jedi and clones they met on the way. Obi-Wan (and by extension Katooni) had chosen to live with Cody and several members of the 212th and 501st in a communal house. Since he split his time between Coruscant and Lothal, he felt it was silly to keep a whole house for himself. Like most Jedi (and clones), he was rather unused to the concept as well. Two bedrooms were sufficient for him and his padawan. 

“Hey, Master Kenobi!”

Obi-Wan looked up, raising a hand to cover his eyes from the sun. A clone was leaning over the railing of a roof deck and waving at him. 

The first thing the Jedi had requested from the clones if they wished to continue living together was to avoid all military ranks. The Jedi were all too eager to get rid of their ‘General’ and ‘Commander’ status.

“Joker, is that you? What are you— Oh, is Tsix with you?”

“Yeah, she’s doing her topography reading thing,” he replied, a drone passing over them to confirm that Tsix was hard at work mapping the land to plan for their next extensions (they had to be careful with the underground tunnels). “How was Coruscant?”

“As crowded as ever.” 

“Sucks to be you. Did Katooni tell you?”

“Tell me what?” Obi-Wan asked with a raised eyebrow at his padawan who avoided his eyes.

“The Skywalkers are waiting for you.”

“I was supposed to keep it a surprise,” Katooni sighed. 

“Ah.” Obi-Wan chuckled and patted her shoulder. “I’ll pretend to be surprised so Anakin doesn’t bother you.”

“Thank you, Master.”

Anakin liked to tease his sister padawan, but Katooni wasn't a great fan of his humor. She tended to put Ahsoka between the two of them whenever she was available.

Their communal house was similar to all the others, but its walls were personalized with paintings done by its inhabitants (a legacy from the clones painting their armors) and thus were mostly orange and blue.

The entrance led into a large common room currently filled to the brim. Obi-Wan didn’t need to force himself to act surprised. He hadn’t quite expected so many clones being present and welcoming them back loudly.

Anakin came out of the crowd to grab Obi-Wan by the shoulders with a large smile. “Didn’t I tell you we’d arrive before you?”

“Didn’t I tell you it wasn’t a race?” was the fondly exasperated reply. 

They had seen each other three days before but had little time to talk between the different celebrations and the need to hurry back in time for Citizen Day. One day they would manage to celebrate everything together, including the twins’ birthday, but in the meantime, Obi-Wan had had to drop off the presents and eat a piece of birthday cake in between two meetings. When the children were older, they would have to find a better arrangement.

Padmé was a guest of honor of Citizen Day. She was sitting on a couch, surrounded by eager clones, although they were most interested in the two children by her side. Luke was curled against Padmé’s side and waved at Obi-Wan, but Leia, bolder, had stood up on the couch to look around her, leaning on Rex who sat beside her and kept her steady. Ahsoka was chatting (or play-fighting?) with Jesse and some others near the stairs.

The six of them often could be found together, although Rex and Ahsoka also traveled on their own. Once Anakin had been brought back from the Dark side (and it had taken weeks, and then months for all of them to be confident that he wouldn’t Fall again), he had left the Order to dedicate himself to his family. The choice had been inevitable. He had proven to himself and everyone else that he couldn’t handle both at the same time, and his Fall had weakened the trust that the Order had in him (and that he had in himself). 

As difficult as it had been, Obi-Wan was content with the knowledge that his padawan had never been happier than he was now as a stay-at-home dad. He wasn’t sure that it would last indefinitely… but hopefully, he was wrong, and if not... they would deal with one thing at a time.

oOo

The drums started to beat a steady rhythm once the night had fallen. 

“Uncle?” Luke mumbled, rubbing his eye. “Now?

Obi-Wan hummed and kissed the boy’s forehead before lifting him a bit higher in his arms. Luke was extremely fond of him, for some reason, while Ahsoka was “Leia’s favorite” (as Anakin said). “Yes, Luke. It will start at any moment now… Ah, here, do you see? That’s the signal.” He pointed at a light over the Temple’s top.

Luke stared expectantly with a little fist in his mouth and then clapped when the fireworks show began. He had stayed stubbornly awake since his father had promised him a grand technical show (the boy already showed a fondness for everything mechanic, just like Anakin; thank the Force he was a little... calmer). Leia had given up after waving at the crowd “for hours, mommy” and fallen asleep in Rex’s arms. She was currently being shaken awake by Ahsoka. There would be a tantrum about missing the show, otherwise.

Obi-Wan smiled at the boy’s simple joy and glanced to the side to meet Cody’s eyes.

“They’re improving each year.”

Former munitions specialists had taken lessons to become pyrotechnists and create the fireworks themselves. The previous year had had a little malfunction at the beginning (“just a little bit of grass on fire; no big deal, Master Kenobi!”), but this time was perfect.

Cody chuckled and nodded in agreement.

The twins fell asleep again by the end of the show, and their parents gathered them to take them to bed. 

“It’s a miracle they lasted that long,” Padmé commented, “they slept through the whole Armistice day show.”

“Bah, this one was better anyway,” Wolffe grumbled from where he was sprawled on the ground.

At the couple’s raised eyebrows (as nice as this one was, it was half as long and big as the one on Coruscant), Obi-Wan gestured to his eyes, made the hand signal for ‘light’ and then rubbed at his temple to explain Wolffe’s dislike for the Coruscanti show. They nodded in understanding.

“Thank you for inviting us, Master of the Temple,” Padmé said politely to Plo Koon before taking their leave.

“Thank you for joining us, Senator,” Plo replied kindly. 

With the Temple of Lothal rising in importance for the Jedi Order, the Council had decided to make a few changes to their organization. Four members of the Council resided permanently on Lothal while six stayed on Coruscant and two traveled between the temples depending on where they were needed. 

This organization had taken months to finalize, but it was currently working well. 

On the other side of the half-circle formed by the crowd who had sat down to watch the show, Bly was looking at Master Koon and Kenobi thoughtfully. 

“Why aren’t one of them the Master of the Order anyway?” he asked his companion.

Cal Kestis looked up from the padawan braid he was doing anew after it was undone when he play-fought with a few young clones. He followed Bly’s glance and tilted his head.

“Because they didn’t want to.”

“They didn’t?”

“You didn’t know? Before the vote could happen, they both stated that they didn’t wish to be considered. Master Koon wanted to stay here permanently, which wouldn’t work with the title, and Master Kenobi didn’t give a reason. Why? What do you have against Master Ti?”

“Nothing,” Bly assured promptly. “I just thought they made more sense.”

Cal hummed in understanding. “Yes, Master Tapal says that if they hadn’t refused, they would have definitely been chosen, and that’s why they said no.”

Bly blinked. “What?”

Footsteps made them turn around to see Master Tapal and Secura come back from the buffet. Bly and Cal tried to stand up, by force of habit, but they were waved down. Jaro and Aayla sat with them in the soft grass instead.

“The most experienced are the most obvious leaders, but the most experienced are also the most tired men,” Aayla explained to Bly. “Master Kenobi and Koon have had to handle more than their share of responsibilities during the war, this one was too much and easily avoided.”

“Master Koon still accepted the title of Master of the Temple of Lothal.”

“Because it agrees with his interests, yes.”

Bly hummed in understanding. “And Master Kenobi?”

Jaro, who had taken over from his padawan to braid his hair and tie it, explained: “He’s currently enjoying a level of freedom which he has been deprived of for a while.”

“They make a cute team, Cody, Katooni, and he, don’t you think?” Aayla asked Bly.

“Yes…” Bly replied slowly and warily. He knew her well enough to guess that she was fishing for something.

She smiled. “I believe that Ganodi is ready for her first mission. Would you come with us?”

“Oh.” Well, that was an acceptable request. The Rodian kid was alright, and every clone knew that a young padawan needed to be supervised  _ at all times _ . Being trained in the Force was synonymous with 'trouble-magnet'. “Of course.”

“Excellent. Now I can get Quinlan to leave me be and go back to his therapy sessions.”

Bly froze. That was a trap. Kriff. He needed to disappear for the rest of Master Vos' stay on Lothal. That man hated therapy sessions more fiercely than the Wolffe Pack hated the Kaminoans... well, no, that wasn't possible, but he was trying.

Next to him, Galle came out of his light doze and reached for him, mumbling: “D’you need an extraction?”

Snorting, Bly patted his shoulder. “Go back to sleep, Galle. I’ll live.”

“But at what  _ price _ ? I can get Meili to hide you among the cadets. You’d just have to play babysitter the whole time.”

“Leave it, Galle. I won’t join the Care Corps.”

“Come on. Your talents are wasted in the Builders Corps, Bly!”

“You still didn’t recover from your last laserball game, have you, Galle?” Aayla asked with an amused smile.

“He’s such a sore loser,” Bly pointed out with a roll of his eyes, pushing away his vod as he tried to grab him in retaliation. 

The clones of Lothal had divided themselves into two corps: those who built and maintained the town, and those who took care of the young and the Jedi. Their rivalry had started with competitions such as laserball, parkour, or other sports they organized to entertain themselves. 

It livened things up… a lot.

“Attention, please!”

They fell silent and turned to see Meili Kocho had walked on the stage raised for the occasion.

“For some reason, the Command asked me to do this… like… speech thing,” she said when she got the attention of the crowd. She was standing with her hands on her hips. “But I’ll make it short. You all remember that, last year, the Jedi brought a surprise for the celebration.” 

She gestured behind her at the large statue commemorating Fives’ sacrifice and how he had saved them all from disaster. The statue was standing between two natural stone cones, right in front of the Temple, and couldn’t be missed.

“Well, this year, the Command have their own surprise for the Jedi… ready, boys?”

The clones called in agreement, ignoring the Jedi curious glances.

“Ok then…” She cleared her throat and said in the most solemn voice she was capable of: “Execute Order Sixty-six.”

Aayla startled as she was suddenly covered in… (she raised her full hands to her baffled eyes) flower petals? She looked up at a grinning Bly and Galle, wide-eyed, and then turned to find that several clones had sneaked up on her with an empty bucket.

Cal squealed in delighted surprise as he was caught and lifted up. “Nimble!” 

Beside him, Jaro chuckled as some of his men tried to kiss the top of his head.

Near the stage, Obi-Wan was in the middle of a group hug. He couldn’t be seen anymore, but his laughter rang loud and clear. 

“If you hear ‘execute order sixty-six’, protect and hug your Jedi, and kriff everyone else who says otherwise!” a tipsy clone shouted from the crowd, and the rest of them cheered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are. I hope you liked this ending!  
> Since there were prompts and requests for more, I'll be writing several bonus chapters. You can find them in part 2 of this series, called [_else {live long and prosper}_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24006244).  
> I'm still taking prompts, here, on the other story or on my tumblr. Feel free to ask for whatever you wish and I'll see if it inspires me!

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at lunaemoth.tumblr.com


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